


The Boyfriend Experience

by aquaexplicit



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Happy Ending, Harrisco Are A Mess Both Individually And As A Couple, Legal Prostitution, M/M, Sex Toys, lying, sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-17 08:05:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 69,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11847417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquaexplicit/pseuds/aquaexplicit
Summary: It’s on the fourth and definitely final encounter that Harry realizes, with bone deep confidence, Cisco must be the worst escort in Central City.Possibly the world.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please read tags/warnings. This is an AU in which prostitution is legal but there's no real political/social exploration of that. Cisco leads Harry to believe he's an escort for most of the story, even though he's not. Everything here is meant to be a ridiculous romcom and not taken too seriously, but if these things are upsetting, please note them!
> 
> Other/minor pairings, just for reference: Caitlin/Ronnie, Barry/Iris, Dante/Melinda Torres. There are brief, literal one sentence references to past Cisco/Kendra and past Cisco/Eobard at the very end.
> 
> [UPDATE: NOW WITH BEAUTIFUL ART FROM SAGEROSECOOPERATIVE. PLEASE GO LOOK, BE IN AWE, AND TELL THEM HOW AMAZING IT IS](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/sagerosecooperative/171245499495)

Harry knows this isn't what Jesse meant when she said he needed to meet someone new. She thought he needed to connect; make some friends, go on a date. Not hire a high class hooker from Central City’s most infamous escort agency.

But here he is, sitting in the Grand Hotel bar, sipping whiskey and searching out the man in purple he’s supposed to be meeting. The matchmaker at Mercury Lounge hadn’t given him a name. It wasn’t the way they operated. He would wait until he saw his companion, decide if they met his qualifications, and go to them.

It’s been exactly seven minutes since his escort was supposed to arrive. The only person Harry’s seen in purple anything is a young man with glossy hair sitting at the bar, nursing a colorful drink and drumming his fingers over eggplant colored skinny jeans. Harry’s eyes have lingered over the curve of his jaw a few times - the restlessness that brought him here pulling tighter under his muscles with every look - but Harry doesn’t think the guy is the escort he’s looking for. He’s too twitchy, too exuberant with the bartender, too excited about the whipped cream in his drink.

Harry glances at his watch. Eight minutes. Is this what passes for professionalism at other companies these days?

He’s prepared to call Mercury and demand his deposit back. His skin tingles like it’s fallen asleep from the wait as he makes his way to the bar. The only free space to slot into is next to Good Hair, Bad Pants. Harry sighs and wraps his knuckles on the bar.

“Another Jamison, sir?”

“Just close my tab. It’s under Dr. Wells.”

Good Hair practically chokes on his whipped cream. Harry watches him cough and sputter and wipe at his full mouth with the back of his hand. There’s still a dollop of cream on the side of his lips when he turns in his chair.

Face to face, Harry can see he’s a little older than the back of his head and garish jeans led him to believe. Harry notes the dimple in his chin and wrinkles lighting up his forehead and some incredulous fire in his dark eyes. Pretty. But ridiculous. Definitely not the escort he's looking for.

“Dr. Harrison Wells?”

“Yes.”

Cute But Probably Dumb wipes sticky hands over his thighs. He’s smiling, mostly teeth and sunshine, accented by the whipped cream still bright on his skin. Harry’s tongue feels heavy at the sight.

“Oh. Okay. Wow, I did not realize you would be so… Tall, in person. Or your eyes would be so. Blue.”

Harry narrows his eyes. Sunshine widens his grin.

“Did you just get here?”

“Why would I be closing my tab if I just got here?”

Sunshine frowns. “Have you been here long? I didn’t see you. Did you not see me?”

“I saw you.” Harry makes a point to see him all over again, scanning his clothes and the curve of his spine under his burnt orange button up - are those little lightening bolts on the fabric? He settles back on the smooth expanse of Sunshine’s face. The guy pushes a strand of hair behind his ears and the smile twitches hopeful.

Harry scowls.

“You’re - ” Harry looks away, clenches his jaw, glares at the ceiling. He looks back. “You’re the match. From Mercury.”

A hand is thrust in front of him. “Francisco Ramon. You can call me Cisco.”

“I don’t think I’ll be doing that.” Harry stares at the offered hand until Cisco slides it back.

“Okay. Well. That’s my name, so…”

“There’s been a misunderstanding. You’re not what I was looking for. Tell the matchmaker to refund my deposit.”

The bartender slides the tab to him. Harry has his card back in his wallet and signed the receipt before Cisco speaks again.

“Hey. That’s it?” Cisco slides from his seat. His easy bright has been replaced by something hotter and he stares up at Harry with furrowed brows.

Harry didn’t specify height. Something primal kicks in when Cisco has to raise his chin to meet Harry’s eyes, though, stretching his throat smooth and open.

“How do you know I’m not what you ordered? You weren’t super specific, you know.”

“I was specific about requesting a professional.”

Cisco scoffs in offense. “How do you know I’m not professional? I’m the picture of professionalism. The Professional is my middle name.”

“You still have whipped cream on your cheek.”

Cisco curses under his breath and wipes at his face. “This isn’t an accurate representation of my average professionalism.” He reaches for a napkin, wipes himself off again, then bends to hoist a backpack over his shoulder.

“Is this your first day of school?”

“These are supplies,” Cisco huffs. That tugs at Harry’s curiosity. It’s a big backpack. “I didn’t know what you wanted, so I came prepared. Because I’m a professional.”

Harry reconsiders the encounter up to this point. Personal fashion sense aside, Cisco is handsome and snappy and knows how to use his mouth as a weapon. Harry was looking for someone who could scratch the itches under his skin. Someone who could cut into the source of his restlessness with a precise touch then stitch it cleanly back in place.

Cisco was on time. He knows what Harry requested. He came prepared to offer more.

Harry licks his lips. “Did you already get a room?”

“Yeah,” Cisco says, surprise coloring his face for a moment. Then his features settle back into softness.

“Well then, Ramon. Lead the way.”

-

The elevator ride to their suite is silent. Almost awkwardly so, but anticipation is just as thick as the unsure twist in Harry’s stomach. Everything feels muggy and electric. Harry’s nerves are ready to snap into action.

He can’t quite keep his hands still when they finally reach the room. Cisco fishes the hotel key from his pocket and opens the door. Harry follows closely behind him.

“So how do you want - woah.”

Harry steps into Cisco’s personal space, crowding him against the v of the door and the wall, but he doesn’t touch. Not yet.

“The woman I spoke with said we were supposed to go over the contract again. Before.” Harry gestures between them.

Cisco shifts the bag on his shoulder. “Right. The contract. You know, going over it and signing it and all of that stuff is more like. Best prostitution practices. No one really does it.”

“She seemed very insistent that I sign it,” Harry says. His earlier suspicion that this could in no way be his match jumps.

Sensing his unease, Cisco raises his palms. “If it makes you feel better, we can. But I’d rather use our remaining time together to make you feel _great._ ”

He lets the backpack slip off his shoulder and drop to the floor with a thud. It’s fluid and controlled and exactly what Harry’s been craving.

Harry stalks forward, slotting one thigh between Cisco’s legs. Cisco spreads for him easy and soft and warm.

“What do you want?” Cisco breathes.

Harry presses his fists loosely on either side of Cisco’s head. He stares down into Cisco’s open face, the smoothness of his skin, the deceptive breadth of honesty. There’s something almost naive in the way Cisco watches him and breathes deeply as if he’s trying to scent what Harry needs. For a moment, it almost feels like Cisco really wants him.

“I want to fuck you,” Harry says, blunt as he can to knock away the charm of Cisco’s face and the sharp feeling in his lungs.

Cisco’s smile is sweet. He’ll taste like whipped cream. “I figured that one out all on my own. I mean, what do you want from me? Not to talk myself out of a job here, but you’re paying for something you could _definitely_ get for free. Why do you need it from me?”

The boldness of the question catches Harry off guard. Cisco asks so innocuously, as if he’s not violating the boundaries that Mercury stressed. Harry considers telling him it’s none of his business; even considers telling Cisco to leave. But the earnest jut of Cisco’s chin is calming, even if it’s a deception.

“People have a tendency to be messy,” Harry says honestly. “I don’t like messy.”

“Ah. Got it.” Cisco clicks his tongue. “No attachments. You’re looking for a wham, bam, thank you ma’am situation. I can handle that. Anything else?”

“No,” Harry says and kisses him.

There's a breath where Cisco doesn't move. Harry doesn't know if it's out of surprise or panic. He can feel Cisco's heart knocking at his chest when he presses their bodies flush. Whatever it is, Harry licks it away the moment he flicks his tongue against Cisco's sweet mouth.

Cisco flows open for him, hands coming to settle on his sides, sticky lips moving against his. Harry sets the pace and Cisco follows steadily, eagerly. He tastes creamy and light and when Harry bites his lip, sucks the sugar from his skin, he makes a lovely noise and pulls Harry closer.

It's good. It pulls the hungry animal in Harry's stomach closer to the surface. But it's not enough. Harry wants to extinguish his lust, not stoke it.

“I want you on your knees.”

“Yeah,” Cisco says, a little dazed, as if he's been beaten by the sun and has just stumbled back inside. “You're - a very good kisser. Has anyone ever told you that?”

Harry's response is a flat stare. Cisco must kiss dozens of people. Surely Harry's artless biting doesn't rate that highly among his experiences. Certainly not enough to leave Cisco's eyes so unfocused.

“I don't need flattery,” Harry says.

Cisco watches him thoughtfully for a beat. “Learn to take a compliment, dude.”

“Don't call me dude.”

Harry's snap doesn't make Cisco snap back. Instead Cisco smiles, like Harry's gruff is something for his amusement, and pets his palms over Harry's neck.

“What do you want me to call you then? So I don't make you cranky when I'm screaming later?”

Annoyance and arousal bite at Harry. As if he can sense it, Cisco's grin widens.

“Do you want me to call you doctor? Harrison? Sir?” Cisco runs his tongue over his plush bottom lip. “Daddy?”

Harry's hands, that have somehow drifted over Cisco's chest, tighten. Cisco's teasing him. He doesn't like being teased. That's not what he's paying for.

“Harry. And don't try to be cute. I didn't hire you to to be cute.”

“I can't really help it, but I'll try for you, Harry.”

Harry kisses Cisco again with the full force of his irritation. Cisco dives head first into the program. He lets Harry taste his mouth while he slides his hands under Harry's shirt, stroking his stomach and his chest until Harry is throbbing hungry in his trousers.

“Do you want me here or by the bed?” Cisco asks as he tugs Harry's shirt up.

Harry lifts his arms, lets Cisco undress him and drop his clothes to the floor.

“Bed. I want you to suck me, then I'm going to get you ready, then I'm going to fuck you.”

Cisco's teeth are bright white and clean. “I love a man with a plan.”

They get mostly undressed. Harry's down to just his pants by the time Cisco is fully naked. He takes a moment to appreciate the miles of smooth skin, the softness wrapped around solid muscle, the dusting of black hair around Cisco’s flush cock. It’s more than surprising to see Cisco half hard after a little deep kissing. Harry raises an eyebrow.

“Told you: you’re a good kisser.” Cisco pushes off the wall. “And you’re way hotter than pictures have led me to believe.”

Harry gets his itching hands all over Cisco’s skin. The forgotten feeling of body heat and the new sensation of Cisco’s mouth is this close to quelling the boredom that’s been scratching him up from the inside out. All he needs is more.

They kiss and touch until the back of Harry’s thighs hit the bed. Cisco nips at his mouth before sinking to his knees, smoothly, showcasing the professionalism he boasted about earlier. His fingers are nimble on Harry’s fly. When he works Harry’s pants and boxers down, he takes a sharp breath.

“I knew you’d have a big dick.” Cisco bites his lip.

Harry’s eyes roll to the ceiling. Something hot hits him - lust, second hand embarrassment, incredulity - and he clenches his fists, digging nails into his palm.

“I told you. I don’t want - ”

“This is not flattery. Just an objective observation. I had a hypothesis and it has been proven correct.” Cisco peers up at him. There are nerves twitching along his jaw that Harry has the urge to smooth. There is a challenge in his eyes, and Harry isn’t sure who it’s directed at. “Take a seat, big guy.”

Harry settles on the edge of the bed. He watches Cisco rise to his feet, watches the dip of his hips and curve of his flesh as he fetches his backpack and brings it back. Supplies. Harry swallows hard.

This isn’t exactly as he imagined. Cisco has proved to be more of a variable than anticipated, but it’s thrilling. It’s going to be good enough to quiet the wild in Harry’s head for a long time.

Cisco kneels again. He fishes a condom out of the bag before settling. His gaze falls between Harry’s legs and he breathes out through his mouth.

Harry wants to tell him to cut it out. He doesn’t need Cisco to stroke his ego while stroking his dick. Cisco must’ve seen plenty of naked men, plenty more impressive than Harry himself. Pretending to be stupefied by what Harry’s packing isn’t endearing and it isn’t a turn on.

Before Harry can tell Cisco can drop the act, Cisco trails questioning fingers over his cock. It’s Harry’s turn to shudder.

“Been a while?” Cisco asks, voice as soft as his touch. Harry doesn’t want to drag this out. He moves his hips, directing Cisco to give him more. Cisco is either slow on the uptake or straight out defiant, because instead of giving Harry more, Cisco braces his hands on Harry’s thighs and drags his cheek over the head.

Harry’s fingers dig into the plush of the hotel bed. The nuzzling is unexpected. He hasn’t asked for it or made any indication he expects Cisco to sit on his knees and - worship isn’t the right word, exactly, but Harry can’t think of another one.

“I’ll be gentle,” Cisco says.

That sets Harry’s teeth on edge. He gets one hand tangled in Cisco’s hair. It’s soft. “Don’t be,” he grits.

Cisco nods but doesn’t listen. His knuckles brush along Harry’s pulsing veins. He follows the movements with his lips, running them over Harry’s too hot skin before dragging the flat of his tongue over the head. It’s nowhere close to what Harry wants. Cisco is building up fires Harry’s been trying to keep contained. Harry’s fingers tighten in Cisco’s hair.

“Get to it.”

“Impatient.” But Cisco tears the condom and rolls it on. Harry tries not to groan under the touch.

When Cisco finally gets his lips around Harry’s dick, Harry’s head falls back. That infuriating mouth is molten chocolate, hot and sweet. Harry curses and surges into the too wet too good pressure. Cisco keeps his sucking shallow, still teasing, and Harry tries to tug him further down.

There’s no ruthless pursuit in Cisco’s movements. It feels more like a real first time, like Cisco is trying to take it slow and learn what Harry likes for next time. Harry fucks up harshly.

Cisco pulls off with a cough. “Easy on the merchandise, Harry. Damn.”

“Whatever you’re doing, stop. I don’t need it.” Cisco breathes out, heat fanning over Harry’s dick. Harry grits his teeth. “I just want to do this as efficiently as possible.”

Cisco’s eyebrows jump. “Efficiently? I can honestly say that’s the first time anyone has asked me to go down on them efficiently.”

“That’s what I want. Honesty,” Harry pants. “I don’t need to pretend this is anything other than what it is.”

“Right.” Cisco nods, licking his lips, not meeting Harry's eyes. “Honesty. Of course. As you wish.”

“Now really isn’t the time for _The Princess Bride_ references.” Cisco blinks then smiles, shiny, like Harry hasn’t hired him to be on his knees. It's unnerving Harry from his core. “Suck.”

Cisco swallows him down then, tip to root, deep and tighter than he did before. That’s more like it.

Or would be. Cisco develops a rhythm that quiets Harry’s thoughts into a dull white buzz. The energy that’s been building in Harry starts to erupt and he has to rake his other fingers through Cisco’s hair. He tugs and pulls a moan that sounds straight from Cisco’s gut.

He stops grabbing but Cisco doesn’t stop moaning. Groaning. Keening. Making all of these _noises_ that vibrate around Harry’s cock and shudder down his spine. Cisco sounds like he’s choking on a particularly sweet popsicle, something delicious that drags desperate sounds through his throat.

Harry doesn’t need the sound effects. He knows Cisco is an escort without him sounding like one. Harry glances down, ready to tell Cisco to cool it with the theatrics, and sees Cisco fisting his own dick.

Fuck.

“Fuck.” Harry screws his eyes shut. The look on Cisco’s face is beatific. It’s ecstatic. Harry didn't think he could buy that kind of look. He certainly didn't mean to.

Harry yanks until Cisco slides off him with a pop. “What are you doing?” Harry pants.

“Making you come your brains out,” Cisco snaps. His hand has moved to rest on his thigh as he brings his other to wipe at his swollen mouth. “Trying to, anyway. Efficiently, as requested.” He sits back and tilts his head. “Was that really not working for you?”

“Forget it.” It isn't working, but it's not Cisco's technique. It's Cisco acting like he isn't working, his exaggerations, that are grating Harry's nerves.

Harry could send him away but he feels a little like his head is going to explode. Implode. The restless itch has finally broken over his skin and he has to find some sort of absolution.

“I - ”

“Get on the bed,” Harry says. “Hands and knees.”

Cisco throws up his hands. “Whatever floats your boat, Harry.”

Cisco pauses to grab a bottle of lube from his bag then settles on the bed. His back dips in the middle then arches at the hips and Harry’s eyes catch on the curve. He flexes his hands against the urge to palm Cisco's skin, feel it shiver.

“I already prepped,” Cisco says, peering through a waterfall of hair. “Just FYI.”

Harry kneels behind him. The position makes him look deceptively submissive, makes him appear to be what Harry asked for. But he smirks over his shoulder and sways his hips, taunting.

Harry doesn’t know if he’s more pissed off or turned on when he reaches for the slick to coat his fingers. It’s both pleasing and irritating that Cisco has already done this, but Harry doesn’t bother measuring annoyance against arousal.

Cisco’s wet and open but _tight_ around Harry’s fingers. Tighter than Harry expected someone in his line of work to be. His head falls forward against Cisco’s back. He mouths at the skin, tasting Cisco’s sweat.

“How are you,” he starts to ask. He doesn’t need to know how Cisco can feel so good, so fresh, so he buries the rest of his question in Cisco’s muscles. Cisco bucks into his touch. “You’re so wet. You were sitting down there like this all that time?”

“Yeah,” Cisco says, head falling forward, hair parting. Harry has the urge to suck a bruise into the back of Cisco’s neck, so he does. Cisco arches against it. “I wanted to be prepared.”

“Good. That’s good.” Harry works his fingers out and moves behind him. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

“Efficiently?” Cisco quips, turning his head to meet Harry’s eyes.

Harry glares at him. He curls his fingers into Cisco’s hips and hauls Cisco onto his dick, knocking the smirk off Cisco’s face and the breath out of Cisco’s lungs.

“Oh shit.” Cisco spreads his arms and knees wider, bracing himself. “That’s, you weren’t kidding, oh fuck.”

Ruthless need drives Harry forward. He snaps his hips, buries himself deep in the clenching heat of Cisco’s body. Cisco fucks back just as viciously. It’s rough and calculated and it’s so close to what Harry needs. It feels a breath away from what Harry wants. But not quite there yet.

“ _Harry_.”

Cisco chokes on his name when Harry angles his hips higher. He keeps choking, keeps making shocked, low noises like he’s never been fucked before. It makes Harry’s cheeks burn, makes his stomach flip uncontrolled. Harry feels like the situation is slipping sweaty out of his fingers.

“Your dick is so awesome, oh my God, do _that_ again - ”

Harry feels a snarl claw at his throat. He palms hard at Cisco’s ass and moves even faster. “Stop talking. Shut up and just - just take it.”

Cisco does shut up but he doesn’t just take it. He gives back as good as he gets, snapping into every movement. It keeps throwing off Harry’s timing and rhythm and pushing him closer on the knife edge of pleasure.

“Touch me. C’mon, Harry, help a guy out.”

“Anyone ever tell you you're really pushy for a hooker?” Harry huffs, but he plasters himself across Cisco’s back and reaches around to touch Cisco’s cock for the first time.

Cisco surges into his grip. He doesn’t say anything else, just makes more moans like Harry’s breaking him open every time he fucks him deep and quick. Harry reminds himself he paid for those noises, that Cisco would make them for any hand wrapped around him, and that this is what he wanted. Something clean and controlled.

He doesn’t exactly feel controlled, though, when Cisco clenches with purpose around him. The thing that keeps dragging him isn’t exactly clean, either. But it does spur him on, make him move until he can finally feel the pressure building behind his eyes. He squeezes around Cisco’s dick and Cisco squeezes around him, says _Harry_ like a prayer, and the pressure of the past few months finally crashes.

His body sags with his orgasm. He falls across Cisco’s back, hand still tight around him. Cisco works his hips into Harry’s grip and comes with a deep moan that reverberates through Harry’s skin.

Harry rolls off Cisco and falls onto his back. Cisco flops onto his stomach. He’s grinning mad as Harry wipes his slick hands on the comforter.

“That was awesome.” Cisco’s breathing hard, sweat shining on his temple. He slides his fist up, knocking it against Harry’s shoulder. “You’re awesome. Do you wanna chill for a bit then go again?”

 _Again_. Harry feels wrung out and hollow with exhaustion. He glances at the clock. Again would definitely bleed into another hour.

“No. That was sufficient.”

Cisco turns over onto his back. “Okay, Mr. Spock. As long as you got your jollies.”

They lay in silence for a few minutes. Harry tries to catch his breath and regain his composure.

“About your payment,” Harry begins, once his heart has slowed from sledgehammer to steady. “The woman I spoke with - ”

“Gideon.”

“Gideon said I would send a void check with you and payment for services rendered would be transferred from my account.”

“Yep. That’s how it works.”

Harry nods. He slides out of the bed to find his pants and steps back into them before pulling his checkbook out. Cisco turns to his side, propping his head up with one hand. He watches every movement.

“You know, if this really was sufficient for you, we could do it again.” His voice is more gentle than it has been all evening, almost brittle with nerves, but that must be Harry's imagination. “Not right now. But later. Some other time.”

There's not going to be another time. Harry doesn't know how he would describe tonight's experience, but it wasn't satisfactory. Harry doesn’t say that, just concentrates on making the check out and pulling it from his book.

“Like, whenever. My schedule’s pretty free these days.”

Harry can imagine that. Cisco doesn’t seem quick to follow directions or cater to specific needs. His roster of clientele must be slim.

“If I did want to,” Harry says, just to fill up the silence. “How would I request you?” _Or go about requesting anyone but you_.

Cisco slides his bottom lip between his teeth and Harry flashes to how the flesh felt under his tongue, how the taste of sweet and spit is still lingering in his mouth.

“I can give you my direct line.”

Cisco gets dressed quickly, shimmying into his skinny pants with greater ease than Harry imagined. He grabs a hotel notepad and pen and scribbles his number on it. Harry takes it before handing Cisco the check.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Harry.” Cisco’s smile looks all too sincere. “Give me a call. Day or night or just - whenever.”

There’s a slight hesitation before Cisco steps into his space and bends down, brushing a too chaste for what they just did kiss over Harry’s mouth. It’s the most shocking thing he’s done this evening. Harry doesn’t respond.

Cisco leaves with that.

-

Harry doesn’t sleep well that night. He has two more whiskey sours when he gets home and falls into bed without a shower. When he wakes up, hard and irritated, he can still taste whipped cream on his tongue.

The night before didn’t scratch his itch. He feels as restless and animal as ever.

He considers calling Mercury to put in a complaint. On the way to work he gets stuck in traffic and instead of using the time to get a head start on his emails, he pulls up their website to search for a feedback survey. They don’t have one. There isn’t even a Contact Us section, just small white text that says Mercury Lounge is a matchmaking service and doesn’t accept solicitations.

The traffic jam and the slow drag of sleepiness puts him twenty minutes late for a meeting. He doesn’t particularly care, deciding halfway up to his office he’s going to reschedule or cancel it anyway. It’s only another status update with General Eiling and it's going to be a waste of both of their time. They’re inching closer to finishing a contract that will bring in enough capital to start work on the project that really matters, but they’re not there yet, and Harry is tired of waiting.

He heads straight to his office, ignoring his assistant’s good morning. Trying to, at least.

“Dr. Wells, wait. General Eiling is in the conference room. He’s been waiting for you and I don’t think he’s very happy - ”

Harry has one hand pushing his door open when Spivot relays the message. He whips his head to face her with a scowl.

“You let him in? Why didn't you have him wait or reschedule?”

Spivot glances around nervously, as if someone is going to pop up and save her. “Um. Well. I assumed you were on your way, and you weren’t answering my calls, and he was here, and - ”

“Fine,” Harry snaps. “I’ll put up my things and go meet him. But I don’t want to see you at this desk when I get back.”

“Are you firing me?”

Harry doesn’t answer. He slides his briefcase on the desk and grabs his coffee. No time to look over today’s projects or projections or see where they’re at in goals for the week. He didn’t have time to review their quarter sales yesterday and it looks like that will be pushed back to this afternoon, too.

He hates that the future of the particle accelerator hinges on this funding, on government sanctions, on keeping Eiling happy by pretending to care about his super soldier project. He hates that he wasn’t able to work out any of his frustration through a calculated encounter with the escort he hired.

Spivot is fluttering upset around her desk when he leaves his office to head to the conference room. It’s just another obnoxious distraction from the important work, the real work, he wishes he could actually focus on.

The meeting with Eiling follows the same formula as every other progress meeting. They discuss where the FDA and DOD are in approving the drugs and experiments S.T.A.R. Labs is going to develop to increase military power while Harry speaks in vague about the additional projects the government contracts will fund. Eiling glazes over when Harry goes into any more detail than the most basic.

Spivot is gone when Harry gets back to his office. At least that’s one thing that’s worked out today.

The rest of his day is boring, boring, obnoxious employees, everyone being stupid but him, boring. Same as yesterday and the day before that and the day before that. He considers leaving early or going for a run at the track the way he did with Jesse every morning before she went away to college but he powers through his responsibilities.

He falls asleep on his tablet at his desk. Jesse wakes him up with a call around 7:00 PM.

“Hey sweetie.”

“Did you fall asleep at your desk again?”

Harry takes his glasses off and scrubs at his face. She always knows when he’s doing something that’s bad for him. She got it from her mother.

“How was your day?”

“I beat my best time by _two_ seconds.”

He smiles into the phone. “That’s my Jesse Quick.”

“What about you? Anything exciting happen to you today?”

“I got to hear from my best girl.”

“That’s sweet, daddy. But also kind of depressing.”

Harry sighs. Because of course Jesse should be the most important, most beloved person in his life, and of course his time with her should be the most exciting. But his life has flat lined since she's been gone. It's not just her absence; it's the stagnation of the accelerator, his company, his vision.

He was supposed to find some respite from the suffocating monotony in Cisco’s professional hands.

“I still think you should try to find another running partner. Maybe you could ask one of the people working on the particle accelerator project? Or try to meet someone new?”

Cisco’s brilliant, earnest smile comes to mind. Harry frowns into the phone.

They ramble for half an hour before a voice on the other side - a _male_ voice that they will be discussing on the next call - says her name and she has to go. It aches a little but Jesse has always needed people, been happier when she formed and fostered connections. She wasn’t like her mother or him that way.

He doesn’t go to the track but runs on the treadmill at home. There are a few lectures he wanted to attend but wasn't able to; he throws them up on his 3D screen, watching and running until he’s sweat slick and tired. At least he can tell Jesse he ran again, that he caught up with some colleagues.

In the shower the heat envelopes his muscles. He lets the steam wrap around him, leaning against the tile, breathing in the warmth. Scrubbing at his stomach with his hands, fingers catching the water, he thinks of how slick Cisco had been inside. He thinks of how Cisco had gotten himself so wet, just for Harry - _for his job_. He thinks of the impossibility of Cisco’s heat and painful tightness and wonders again how Cisco felt so good.

The memory of Cisco echoes in the shower. Harry jerks off to an incredibly unsatisfying finish, remembering the sound of Cisco’s voice and the way he rambled about Harry’s dick and arched into it like it was the best thing he ever felt. It had to have been a show but it was a good one, fools Harry long enough for him to come over his own hand.

Cisco’s number is on a crumpled paper next to his bed. Harry looks at it before he goes to sleep, crushes it in his grip, and throws it away.

-

Harry sleeps a little better that night, but he still wakes up angry, cock flush and skin too hot.

He fishes the paper with Cisco’s number out of the trash.

_Are you available tomorrow? Same time, same place._

Cisco responds lightening fast.

_see u there, big guy ;)_

Harry regrets sending the text instantly.

-

When Harry arrives at the bar, Cisco is sitting on a stool next to a pretty brunette. His outfit is marginally less offensive - pastel pink pants, baby blue button up with no pattern, hair pulled back into a bun. The woman next to him is delicate with a waterfall of hair and thin shoulders that are slumped under Cisco’s palm.

Harry marches to them, ready to tell Cisco he can pick up other clients on his own time, but pauses in his tracks when the woman throws her arms around Cisco’s neck and kisses his cheek. Cisco reacts with a bright, genuine laugh. His hands settle on her, light, platonic. He pats her back.

The woman slides off her chair, wiping at her eyes. She’s been crying. Harry watches her leave.

“Hey,” Cisco says when he slides onto the stool. “Sorry about that. You haven’t been waiting, have you?”

“Who was that?” Harry glances to see her walking out of the hotel. Something about her stance, the slope of her nose, is familiar. “Was that Mayor Snart’s sister?”

“I think so?” Cisco answers, sounding unsure. “She looked like him but I didn’t get a last name.”

“Was she the client before me?” Harry asks, assuming Cisco is withholding the answer and feeling irritation roll under his skin. “Or are you not allowed to divulge information about your other Johns? Janes?”

“Oh. No, dude, I just met that chick. She was crying at the bar, bad break up, and I was waiting for you and we just kind of started talking.”

Harry glances at the door where Maybe Snart’s sister was just standing then back at Cisco. “You just met her?”

“Yeah.”

“And she told you about her break up?”

“Yeah. Have you ever met a drunk girl? They will tell you their life story and give you the best compliments.”

Harry has no idea what Cisco’s talking about and hopes the blankness he feels on his face conveys that. It must, because Cisco sighs.

“I just told her that whatever guy didn’t fully appreciate her is obviously an idiot, it was his loss, she’ll find someone better, you know the drill. I think she just needed someone to vent to and tell her she’s gonna be alright.”

“Okay,” Harry says, because, okay. “You look like an Easter egg, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Cisco says cheerfully. “I thought you’d appreciate the aesthetic.”

Harry doesn’t know if Cisco is being sarcastic or obnoxious or both. He decides it doesn’t matter.

“Do you have our room?”

Cisco pulls the key out of his pocket along with two $50 bills. “For mine and Lisa’s drinks,” he tells the bartender. “Keep the change.”

-

Their room tonight is across the hall from the other night. Harry notes it the same way he notes how casual Cisco seemed about talking a girl down from her breakup then dropping $100 on drinks for both of them. Maybe that wasn’t a lot of money to someone in Cisco’s line of work, but Harry can’t imagine Cisco has an extensive clientele.

If she was the Jane before him, that’s none of his business. That’s why he chose someone in Cisco's profession in the first place. No attachments, no history, no mess. Nothing personal.

“I want to make sure we’re clear on something tonight,” Harry says when Cisco gets them in the room. “I don’t want you to fake anything.”

Cisco frowns. “Can guys fake orgasms?”

Harry takes his glasses off, setting them on the nightstand with a click and roll of his eyes. “I don’t want theatrics,” Harry expands. “I’m not going to forget I’m paying for this.”

“Okay,” Cisco says slowly. “I guess I should make something clear then, too. I don’t work at Mercury because I have a tragic backstory. I got my degree, I paid off my student loans, and I’m not in debt because I had to take care of my sick grandmother. I work there because I love getting laid and getting paid. And you know career path combines my two great loves? The oldest one in the world.”

Harry regards him for a few moments, letting his words sink in. “I didn’t assume you had a tragic backstory,” he says. “I just assumed your exuberance was an attempt at flattery. Something other clients ask for. I was expecting something more...” Harry trails off. Something about Cisco's gaze makes his words falter. 

“Cold? Impersonal? There are Japanese sex robots for that, Harry.” Cisco steps into his personal space, letting his palms settle gently over Harry’s chest. “If you want a live, warm blooded person, you’re going to have to deal with a little humanity. Especially if it’s me, because I’m not gonna pretend that I don’t get off on getting you off or that I don’t love your big awesome dick.”

Cisco’s grin is at a bright opposition to his words. He’s happy and teasing and something entirely other than who Harry had been intending to curb his frustrations with.

“If you’re not into that, we can cut this meeting short. I won’t even tell Gideon to bill you for the hour. But if you decide you are into it…” Cisco trails one hand down Harry’s sternum, his belly, slipping strong fingers under his belt loop. Tugging, Cisco brings his mouth forward, hovering just under Harry’s own.

Harry doesn't wait for Cisco to finish his statement. He just closes the distance between them.

He gets Cisco on his back this time, hair fanned like night around him. Once Cisco slides the condom on him, Harry kneels at his side and feeds a panting Cisco his cock. Just like the first time, Cisco spills high pitched, embarrassing noises that Harry is still convinced were picked up from watching too much porn. But he lets himself enjoy the wanton sounds and squirms. He swallows up everything Cisco gives him.

Cisco keeps his mouth wide open and Harry slides himself over Cisco’s plush, pliant tongue. His gaze keeps darting between Cisco’s hungry mouth and where Cisco is jerking himself off with languid, honeyed strokes. When the heat is building far too close to climax, Harry gets Cisco’s chin between his hands and tilts his head, gives himself better access to Cisco’s throat, and fucks forward. Cisco’s takes it with wet, open eyes.

If Cisco is like this with every client, maybe dropping those bills earlier wasn’t that much of a loss.

Cisco's groans start to slide lower and his hand moves faster. His mouth gets sloppy as he gets more distracted by his own cock in his grip than the one between his lips.

“Stop,” Harry tells him. He pulls away and tugs at Cisco's wrist.

“Why?” Cisco whines. “Come on, that was good. Tell me with a straight face that wasn't in your top ten blow jobs ever.”

“Stop touching yourself,” Harry clarifies. He doesn't dignify Cisco's demand with an answer.

“Oh. Why?” Cisco repeats.

Harry grits his jaw. Cisco may be enthusiastic but his lack of submission is starting to war with that appeal.

“Can't you just do what your client asks?”

“I mean. I _could_. But where would the fun in that be?”

Harry can see where this line of questioning leads and abandons it. “I don't want you to come until I'm inside you.”

“Why?” When Harry feels exactly one breath away from exploding, Cisco grins. “Kidding! Sorry, I just, your face. Sorry.”

Fed up, Harry abandons Cisco's mouth and moves in between his legs. Cisco doesn't give him any lip or resistance, spreading easy and hooking his legs around Harry's middle. Harry runs his hands along Cisco's thighs. There's solid muscle wrapped in softness and Harry could lose himself in touching, tasting. Cisco would let him.

But that's not what Harry wants. That's not what this is for.

Cisco grips him tightly, pressing with the strength stretched below the gentle. It snaps Harry back into action.

“Did you come prepared?”

“Yeah. Since you liked it so much last time.”

Harry fingers him anyway, just to make Cisco squirm, just because he enjoys it and paid for it and can. He slides in and out until Cisco starts to huff, hungry and annoyed.

“Harry,” he breathes, dragging his name out. “Come on already.”

Cisco isn’t calling the shots. Harry is going to remind him, he is, but Cisco drags him into a kiss that’s more Cisco groaning around his tongue than a kiss, and Harry almost can’t stop himself. He presses _this close_ and swallows Cisco’s whimper.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he bites. “Not because you told me to.”

Cisco _laughs_. “Whatever you gotta tell yourself, dude.”

Harry fucks him until the laughter skitters into low moans and something that sounds close to please pours out of Cisco's mouth. Harry nearly loses it. Cisco clings to him, pliant and sweat slick, body sweet while Harry unleashes his frustrations.

When the buzz of orgasm gets close, Cisco starts slurring filth into his ear. Harry doesn’t know if Cisco even knows what he’s saying or if it’s just the earth shaking thrusts that are knocking all of his thoughts loose. Fingers scraping at Harry’s thighs, legs tight around Harry’s middle, Cisco pants. Harry can barely make out what Cisco is saying over the moans and slide of flesh and pleasure roaring in his ears.

Then Cisco presses his mouth into Harry’s neck, _whimpering_. “Never had anyone fuck me like this,” he says, nonsensically, but it thrills Harry’s orgasm out of him all the same.

-

Harry gets home nearly an hour later. Cisco wanted to kiss for a while after Harry rolled onto his back, and Harry would’ve said no except Cisco rolled right along with him and kept Harry’s words silent with his tongue. Then Cisco wanted to lay his sweat salted forehead against Harry’s chest and ask if they were going to do this again. Harry had meant to say no.

He didn’t want another night like tonight clogging his pores and thoughts. Cisco was supposed to clear the mania from his head, not twist it into something more unsteady. The entire purpose of hiring a professional was to avoid the nasty side effects of skin on skin: clinging to the sounds of smiles and moans, avoiding showers to keep the scent of another person against him for as long as possible, wanting.

Cisco is too messy. Too distracting. Too -

He missed two calls from Jesse. His phone was on silent but he can read from the times that one call was drowned by Cisco’s moans. The other was ignored in favor of finding his pants.

Jesse answers on the third ring.

“I was starting to think you were dead.”

Harry smiles into his phone, collapsing onto the couch to pull off his socks and shoes. “I was stuck in a meeting,” he lies, guilt tugging at his stomach. He tries to lie to her as little as possible. “I had my phone on silent and I was. Distracted.”

“You’re not killing yourself over this army thing, are you?” She’s worried. Too worried about too much for a girl of her age and brilliance. Harry put that there. He frowns.

“No. It was another deal.”

“What deal? What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly. “It’s just not going to work out. But that’s not why you called. What’s going on, honey?”

“I was calling… I just wanted to ask - well, to let you know about next weekend. I know we had plans for me to come down Friday but Dr. Stein asked if I could stay to help him with his research project. He never invites freshman to be part of his team.”

Harry takes a deep breath. Mentally, he’d prepared for something like this. There were going to be times when Jesse didn’t want to come home. At least she’s choosing research and advancement over him instead of something or someone else. He can deal with this.

“Are you mad? I can tell him I can’t if - ”

“Of course I’m not mad.”

“...really?”

“Really. I’ll miss you, but that’s nothing new. You should stay. Show them all you’re smarter than them.”

He can hear her smile through the phone. 

-

Harry devises a series of distractions to navigate his disappointment. He pulls blueprints from some long pushed back projects then puts them back in favor of revising plans for the particle accelerator. Equations bleed into schematics and eventually everything starts to look blue.

The Friday that Jesse was supposed to fly in, Harry sits in his office and listens to the rain and stares at his phone. He hasn’t reached out to Cisco in over a week. He hadn’t been planning on ever doing it again.

_What are you doing tonight, Ramon?_

It takes five frustrating minutes for Cisco to text back.

_you???_

Harry rolls his eyes but his stomach coils tight and taut. He texts Cisco to meet him at 6:00 PM sharp. There are still some papers to be signed but since Harry hasn’t hired Spivot’s replacement there’s no one to nag him about it, so he leaves it for weekend work.

He bumps into Dr. Snow when he’s leaving his office. Literally walks shoulder into her shoulder, knocking a file from her hands.

“Dr. Wells!” She scurries to slide her papers back into the manila folder. “I was just coming to see you. I had some things I wanted to discuss with you about the GEOS project.”

“It can wait until Monday.”

Snow frowns at him. “Are you leaving early? I thought your normally stayed late on Friday." Harry frowns back. "Not that that’s any of my business.”

“It’s not.”

She offers a nervous smile in the face of his obvious irritation. “Of course. But if there’s any way you could stay, even just for an extra half hour, there are some serious problems with this contract. What they’re asking us to do. Not just medically but ethically - ”

“I promise to hear out all of your medical and ethical issues with the project. On Monday.”

“Really?” she asks, skeptical.

Harry matches her raised eyebrow. “I’ll hear you. Whether I listen to you is an entirely different thing. Now. If you’ll excuse me.”

He leaves without looking back.

-

When it rains in Central City, everyone fucking forgets how to drive.

Harry’s shoes leave wet imprints on the plush hotel carpet as he approaches the room. Cisco is already checked in. The guy at the lobby gave Harry a thinly veiled look of disdain when Harry picked up his key - _your companion is already here, sir_ \- and Harry made sure to read James Jesse on the name tag before heading to the elevator.

Prostitution has been legal for decades, but there are still those who don’t approve of the profession or those who support it.

Harry decides to wait until after his evening with Cisco before having the man fired.

Cisco is sprawled on the bed, phone in hand, when Harry comes inside. His fingers are flying across the keys.

“You’re late,” he says, not looking up from the phone. “I’d call you out for being rude, but I realize it’s raining, and people fucking forget how to drive in this city when it rains. So I’ll just call you out for lack of planning.”

Harry stares at him flatly. After finishing his message, Cisco slides his phone on the night table and looks up. He takes in Harry’s hair, flat and flowing from the rain, plastered to his face. There’s an impact. Harry tries not to smirk as he removes his jacket and drops it on the floor, revealing his soaking clothes, and the way they cling to his body.

“Okay. How is it you look hot when you get caught in the rain and I look like a Pomeranian that’s been rescued from drowning? How is that fair?”

“Life’s not fair, Ramon,” Harry tells him as he moves from the bed.

Cisco brings one palm to his forehead. The lack of sex tied to the move makes it far more intimate than Harry can stand. Not professional. He bats Cisco’s hand away.

“You’re freezing,” Cisco says, ignoring Harry’s irritation. His mouth settles into a flat line as he regards Harry. “Rough day?”

Yes. But Cisco can’t possibly read that from the slump of Harry’s shoulder or the chill in his skin. And Cisco doesn’t need to know. So Harry keeps his mouth shut and steps into Cisco’s personal space, curling his fingers against Cisco’s neck.

“I need a shower.” Hot water to warm his skin. Cisco to warm his bones.

Cisco presses an open mouthed kiss to Harry’s wrist. Harry's breath catches on the movement. It's softer then he expected.

“Shower sex,” Cisco says thoughtfully. “I think I can work with that.”

It’s not so much shower sex as shower pressing Cisco into the wall and rubbing their wet bodies together. Cisco makes a face when Harry pins him against the cool tile but he melts into Harry’s hands soon enough. They kiss languidly. Harry holds onto Cisco’s hips, not tight enough to bruise but enough to keep him pliant, and slides their cocks together.

Cisco comes first - of course. If there were some sort of John survey, Harry would give him zero’s for courtesy. When Cisco spills, he slumps against the shower, warm and boneless as Harry rubs against his body. Between Cisco’s flesh and the warm water, Harry feels his blood thrumming hot again.

Then Cisco catches his breath and comes alive. He sucks Harry’s mouth into a water slick kiss and curls his hand around Harry’s dick, thumb moving with firm pressure over the mushroom head.

Cisco licks the water from his collar bone. Sucks at his chest, drags teeth over his nipple. Harry bucks into his hand. He looks down to see the contrast of their skin and realizes, for the first time, how strong Cisco’s hands are. There is a roughness in his skin. His fingertips are calloused and there is a sturdiness in his palm that Harry hasn’t realized before. These are the hands of a man who knows what to do with them.

When he looks up, Cisco is smiling at him. Not smirking or leering, because that isn't Cisco. His charm is in the authentic hitch of his breath and the honesty in his grin. It’s almost easy to think it’s real. For Harry to forget he paid for this.

“Faster?” Cisco asks.

Harry braces his open hands on either side of Cisco’s head. “Tighter,” he hisses.

Cisco actually complies. He tightens his grip and moves a little faster. Harry lets his eyes close, lets his forehead slide against Cisco’s own. The hand not gripping his dick comes up to his hair and pulls him into another wet kiss. Harry spills over Cisco’s hip.

They stand together, just breathing, soaking in the warmth of the shower. Harry is going to step out when Cisco runs fingers through his hair.

“Want me to wash your hair?”

The offer catches Harry off guard. “That’s not going to cost me extra, is it?” he asks, voice steady where his chest isn’t.

Cisco pauses, as if he’s as unsure as Harry is. Then he slides his bottom lip between his teeth and pushes his wet hair behind his ears.

“It’s on the house.”

So Harry lets Cisco wash his hair. It feels _good_ , relaxing in a way Harry hadn’t realized his body had been needing. He has to tilt his head back for Cisco to lather shampoo and conditioner in his hair - he usually skips conditioner, but Cisco makes a noise of distress when Harry suggests that. The strain in his muscles doesn't diminish the pleasure.

Harry turns around and tips his head back into the spray. Cisco runs his fingertips over Harry’s ribs, tickling him. It startles him enough that he gets water in his mouth.

Cisco is still laughing when they step out of the shower. He wraps himself in one of the fluffy hotel bathrobes then picks up a towel, bringing it up to dry Harry’s hair. Harry lets him before remembering himself and wrestles the towel away.

His own hair still dripping, Cisco flops onto the bed.

“I’m starving. You have to feed me.”

Harry is a little mesmerized by the liquid black of Cisco’s wet hair on the bed. He thinks his fingers would flow through it like silk.

“Harry? I canceled dinner plans because you can’t text ahead. I need room service.”

Room service. That’s the opposite of what Harry wanted from tonight. He thought he would lose himself in Cisco’s body, maybe find a sliver of what he’d been searching for, then head home. Not have dinner with Cisco.

Harry considers cutting the evening short. Considers telling Cisco he can order whatever he wants but Harry won't be there with him.

What he says instead is, “Menu’s by the phone.”

Harry towels his hair until it isn’t dripping water everywhere. He watches Cisco crawl around the bed and grab the menu, looking over the options, wrinkling his nose.

“I really want those chocolate waffles they have at the restaurant downstairs.”

Trading the towel around his waist for the other bathrobe, Harry rolls his eyes. “You could walk down there.”

“I know I’ve only known you for a few weeks, but I can say with the confidence that’s the absolute worst idea you’ve ever had.”

“I’m not getting it for you.”

“But you’re my sugar daddy.” Cisco pouts.

Harry’s his John and the urge to correct him dances on Harry’s tongue. Maybe Cisco’s other clients are wrapped around his little authentic act, but Harry hasn’t forgotten that he ordered Cisco from a number.

“Oh.” Cisco clucks his tongue. “James will get it for me. He’s good people.”

Harry furrows his brow. He’s caught between the whirlwind prospect of having dinner with Cisco and the mention of a name he doesn’t know.

“James?” he asks, settling in bed next to Cisco.

Cisco is already dialing the phone. “The guy at the front desk? He’s checked us in every time we’ve been here?”

The dick at the front desk. The one Harry is going to get fired. “Good luck with that. I don’t think he’s exactly - "

“James! How goes guarding the front desk, my dude?”

Harry can’t hear the words on the other end of the phone, but he can hear the _brightness._

Cisco laughs at whatever the guy says. “Nah, I’m good here. He’s a lot less scary than he looks.” Cisco glances at him. “I was actually calling to ask the biggest favor ever asked.”

Some more words come from the other side of the phone. Cisco smiles. “You know the waffle thing from the hotel bar? I’m not being melodramatic when I say I’ll literally die if I don’t have one.”

Harry rolls his eyes again.

“You are a living, breathing angel! I’ll call it in and - no, dude, you don’t have to do that. Aw, man. Thank you. Seriously. Yeah. Just bill it to the room. You’re the best!’

Then Cisco hangs up the phone. Harry blinks, processing what just happened like an out of date server.

“What was that?”

“James is bringing me the waffle thing. I told you he’s good people.” Cisco says it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“I got the distinct impression he didn’t like us.”

“Hmm. I never got that impression.” Cisco frowns thoughtfully, fist under his chin. “Maybe he just doesn’t like you?”

Harry scowls.

“I can’t possibly be telling you anything you don’t already know when I say you kind of lack charisma and likability. But that’s totally part of your charm.”

It isn’t something Harry doesn’t already know, but it’s still irritating to hear. Not because Harry minds. Charisma isn’t a commodity with which he’s ever dealt or traded upon. He has talent. Genius doesn’t need to be liked to still be genius.

Cisco presses against him, dangerously close to cuddling, and noses at his chin. His teeth replace the damp hair plastered to Harry’s neck in the next few breaths, though, and Harry tilts his head so Cisco can taste his skin.

“What do you say we see how close we can get to making each other come again before I get my waffles?”

Harry pulls Cisco onto him, gripping his ass and digging his teeth into Cisco's shoulder. Cisco laughs.

-

In the end, Harry ends up sucking off all of the waffle whipped cream Cisco gets over himself, then moving down to his cock. He doesn't put on as much of a show as Cisco does but Cisco comes quickly, as if he didn't get people with more skill than Harry touching him on a daily basis.

Harry doesn't get the favor returned. Instead Cisco climbs into his lap, groaning about how hard he's been wanting to ride Harry's dick.

It should've been enough. It almost felt like enough, finally, and Harry actually believed it when he told himself it was going to be the last time.

Then he saw Cisco’s phone.

As it turned out, the degree Cisco got but never actualized into a career was a Master’s in Mechanical Engineering from CalTech. He didn’t pursue an engineering position when he moved back to Central City - _sucking dick pays better than working in a lab yo!_ \- but he did purchase one of the first of STAR Labs now discontinued cell phones. Harry recognized the emblem in the back but hardly anything else past all of the modifications Cisco had done.

If Cisco had been working at STAR during that particular crisis, he may have solved it. One of the multitude of poor investments that had weakened STAR at the knees could’ve been avoided.

Harry spends a good portion of Saturday researching Cisco instead of looking over the notes Dr. Snow slid under his door.

He finds some articles about Cisco and his brother when they were both young. Cisco has short hair and wears a shirt tucked into his pants. He plays, or played, cello, apparently, while his brother played piano. There’s a far longer, more artistically prestigious paper trail on Dante Ramon, who Harry tracks to Central City College’s music department.

The information on Cisco is a little more sparse. There’s a grainy photo of teenage Cisco with a giant trophy and the same smile he had while devouring his chocolate waffle. Harry reads about Cisco winning the science fair a few years in a row and his name comes up, highlighted from Harry’s scanning programming, in Honor Roll lists.

There are a few more articles that come up on Google about net worth and investments, but Harry doesn't click those. He's certain they belong to some of the other Francisco Ramon's the search pulled up.

It takes Harry a bit of maneuvering but he manages to pull up Cisco’s grad records. He was a TA in the engineering department, in the Honor’s College, a recipient of a number of scholarships, and presented his thesis project at a conference Harry vaguely remembers not attending because he hadn’t wanted to.

Harry can’t reconcile all of it. Cisco’s shine and heat, his brightness and mouth, and the flashes of intelligence that would’ve made Cisco a prize to be won among Central City’s labs. STAR would’ve courted his talents, no doubt.

It gnaws at him, but by the time the sun has faded below the horizon, he isn’t any closer to understanding. He realizes he doesn’t need to understand it to reap the benefits of Cisco’s choice.

-

On Monday, Harry is knee deep in other people’s incompetence when there’s a tentative knock at the door.

“I’m not here,” Harry says.

The door is pushed open anyway. Snow pokes through the opening.

“Good morning, Dr. Wells. It’s Monday.”

“Outstanding observation, Dr. Snow.”

She steps into the room, all nerves. The manila folder is cradled in her arms.

“I don’t have time, Snow. Make an appointment with my assistant for some other time this week.”

“You still haven’t hired a new assistant,” Snow reminds him.

“Then find me someone.”

Snow huffs, bangs fluttering, and it makes him think of Cisco.

“You realize I’m the head of your bio-mechanics division, right? Finding you a new assistant doesn’t fall under my purview.”

“I guess you won’t be able to schedule a meeting with me, then.”

“Dr. Wells,” she says, voice firm. “Please, just give me five minutes.”

He steeples his fingers under his chin. “Fine. You have five minutes, starting when you knocked on the door.”

“The GEOS Project. I realize the contract is lucrative, but have you considered what we would really be doing? Experimenting with susceptibility, with internal communications, on human subjects - ”

“We are starting with gorillas,” Harry interrupts.

“It’s mind control,” Snow says. The distress is evident in her strained eyes and cracking voice. “This is about genetically altering soldiers for mind control.”

Harry watches her evenly. When it’s clear she’s finished, he pushes away from his desk.

“The goal of the GEOS Project is to create more refined soldiers that can achieve the missions required in a dangerous world. We don’t even know if we can achieve those goals. If you’re uncomfortable with what your role will be to find out, then the door is open.”

He makes a point by opening the door.

“Dr. Wells. This isn’t what STAR Labs is about. Our mission is all about hope. About the good our innovations and research can do for humanity.”

“I wasn’t aware you were at our initial groundbreaking,” he says, ire rising. As if she knows anything about STAR’s _mission_. 

“I’m sorry if you feel like I overstepped but - ”

“I have a very busy week ahead of me. I suggest if you want to have any more discussions you find me an assistant that can schedule another meeting.”

He holds the door open until she leaves, then slams it behind her. Anger holds him in quiet vibration until he hears his phone buzz on his desk.

It’s Cisco, responding to his earlier text.

_i can meet u tuesday evening. does that work, same time same place? also i know you're the boss but please for the love of god don’t text me before 8 am i thought someone had died_

Harry has another progress update with Eiling then. It’s going to be pointless.

It’ll be easy to reschedule.

_I’ll see you then._

_-_

It’s on the fourth and definitely final encounter that Harry realizes, with bone deep confidence, Cisco must be the worst hooker in Central City.

Possibly the world.  

For all of Cisco’s earlier blow job related enthusiasm, he wasn’t eager when Harry guided Cisco between his knees this evening. He whined that Harry had already been inside him, that his jaw was sore from getting Harry hard in the first place, that Harry took too long to get ready after coming once. Harry had asked where all that confidence and bravado from their other meetings had gone. Cisco said Harry fucked it out of him.

Cisco slides his mouth, hot and wet but too soft, from the head of Harry’s dick with a pop. His eyes are narrow horizons of black and irritation. He pinches Harry’s thigh.

“You’re doing it on purpose,” Cisco accuses.

Harry meets his gaze, heat and agitation level. “Doing what, exactly?”

“Not coming.”

Shrugging, Harry pillows his hands behind his hand. Cisco is a vibrating mess of finger mussed hair and dark, wild wet. Teary eyes and bruised mouth and cheeks glistening with spit. His fingers are twisted in the crisp white of hotel sheets.

Cisco is like fire, like this, flickering alive and in juxtaposition with the modern elegance of their rented room. Harry wants to bury himself in Cisco’s burning throat.

And of course, now that it's what Harry wants, his contrary escort won't let him.

“Trust me, I’m trying.”

“It’s been - ” Cisco glances at the clock, “ - over thirty minutes. Maybe you’re just too old to come twice in a row anymore.” Cisco soothingly pats his calf.  

“Maybe you’re not as skilled as you think you are, Ramon.”

“Sorry, I must’ve accidentally skipped how to give head to assholes who hold their breath day at the Hooker Academy.” He rolls his eyes.

Harry’s skin has been stretched taut and itching over his bones since the last time they were together, even though he’d been closer to satisfied than he’d ever been with Cisco before.

“Are you close, at least?”

“Yes,” Harry lies, lifting his hips to bump the flushed head of his dick against the warm soft of Cisco’s cheek.

Still _glaring,_ Cisco lowers his head. Soft hair spills over Harry’s thighs. All of that heat balanced by softness is focused on Harry as Cisco runs his tongue along Harry’s skin.

Harry closes his eyes. Lets himself drift into warmth. This is the last time, he reminds himself again. He’s going to get this from Cisco - he wants it, he paid for it - and then he’s going to slip out of this room and never enter it again.

Cisco grunts around his dick. It’s not _sexy_ but it curls around something in Harry’s belly. His eyes open to Cisco, watching him, mouth stretched obscene and pretty. Cisco gives a hard suck, almost enough pressure, almost enough depth, and Harry holds his breath.

Quick and cruel as a snake, Cisco slides off. “Ah!” Cisco’s finger flies in his face. “I knew it! You’re holding your breath. That’s cheating!”

“I’m just trying to help you be the best you can be, Ramon.”

Harry doesn’t say that he paid for three hours of Cisco’s time and if he wanted to spend that time in the hot cavern of Cisco’s mouth, he could. Mostly because he’s had enough of Cisco rolling those eyes at him for a lifetime.

Cisco huffs and settles on his back. “Forget this noise,” he says, rubbing his jaw. “Fuck me.”

Harry glares at the ceiling. “I want your mouth.” He pitches his tone as low and salacious as possible.

It doesn’t have much of an effect.

“My jaw hurts.” Cisco looks at him, angry little pout in place. “If you don’t want to come again tonight, that’s on you. But this - “ He points at his teasing, machine gun mouth, “ - is officially closed for business.”

“If I could only be so lucky,” Harry sighs, but rolls over Cisco’s body.

Cisco brightens. His grin is toothy and self-satisfied. Cisco has already come twice tonight, once on Harry’s dick, the other on Harry’s tongue. Surely there should be some kind of refund, at least a discount, when the escort comes more than the client.

Harry thinks about who he should bring that up to as he leans in to bite Cisco's mouth.

Eventually, he gives into the call of Cisco’s body. He gets his hands around Cisco’s thighs and spreads them, up and wide and open, and fucks inside.

“Oh my God,” Cisco pants, the vicious blunt of his nails digging into Harry’s shoulder blades. “Oh my God, we could’ve been doing this for the last thirty minutes. You’re the worst person I’ve ever met.”

Harry kisses him to shut him up. They share spit and air and curses while Harry sinks into him, hitting that spot over and over again. Harry bites his own cheek. Thinks of mergers and the press conference he has tomorrow. Anything to distract him from how _good_ Cisco feels like this, already slick and open, unable to do anything but take it.

Cisco slides away from his mouth for breath. Harry licks his jaw.

“How are you so good at this. You’re such a fucking dick. I love your fucking dick, Harry.”

Harry grits his teeth when Cisco curls hands into his hair. Cisco must’ve missed dirty talk class, too. All of his obscenity pours out of his mouth without focus, as if he’s just spilling whatever thought pops into his pretty head.

“M’close. M’so close, your cock gets me so close, but you gotta touch me. Get me there, Harry, come on.”

“You don’t come,” Harry mouths against his cheek. “Until I do.”

Cisco makes a desperate noise and clenches tight, _tighter_ , around Harry. Harry’s eyes flutter and give him a fantastic vision of the back of his head.

“Want you to come. Aren’t you close? Feel so good in me. Don’t I feel good?”

 _Yes_ , Harry thinks, and bites his tongue.

Harry tries to curb the inevitable as long as he can. Cisco doesn’t call him out when he holds his breath or stutters his hips.

He thinks about keeping Cisco here all evening. His first meeting tomorrow isn’t until 10:00 AM. Even after he does finish, he could stay inside Cisco's body, keep Cisco on edge as he softened and hardened inside him. Maybe fuck Cisco’s mouth like he’s been craving.

Cisco scratches his nails down Harry’s neck and keens something pleading, something obscene. He clenches around Harry again.

Harry comes.

Cisco opens his eyes as Harry breathes heavily over him. He smiles like he accomplished something.

“Christ,” he says, grinning, leaning up to kiss Harry’s exposed skin. Harry keeps his face buried in Cisco’s neck as he tries to catch his breath.

Harry is still panting when Cisco starts to squirm underneath him. “My turn.”

“You’ve had your turn,” Harry says, breathless. “Twice.”

“Come on,” Cisco whines. “You promised.”

“I don’t remember that.” But Harry wraps a hand around Cisco’s cock anyway.

“Fuck.” Cisco bucks into his touch. “Just like that. Kiss me.”

Harry isn’t going to, but Cisco’s hands cradle his jaw and Cisco’s tongue unfurls in his mouth. He jerks Cisco off like that, his own dick and tongue burning inside of Cisco's body. Cisco squirms and pushes into him, pulls away, over sensitive and needy. Harry wants to fuck him again, just like this, drag pleasure over Cisco’s exposed nerves like sandpaper.

Cisco comes over Harry’s hand, hot and messy on both of their bellies. Then he smiles, sleepy and satisfied. Honest.

“Maybe I should be paying you,” Cisco says teasingly as Harry rolls onto his back.

“Please.”

“I mean it.” Cisco spreads his arms out, sighing as he stretches. “You're - ”

“I know what I am, Ramon. You don't have to pretend. Maybe your other clients need their egos stroked, but I don't. I'm not like them.”

Cisco watches him, quieter than Harry has ever seen him.

“No, you're not like my other clients. You're not like anyone I've ever…” He trails off. “I can try to stop saying it out loud, but it won't make it not true. I wouldn't just say it if it wasn't.”

Harry almost believes him. Part of him even wants to.

Cisco reaches for the phone. “I don't know about you, but _someone_ made my throat raw today. I think I deserve some hot chocolate. You want anything?”

“I'm good.”

“Yeah you are,” Cisco says, wriggling his brows. “James Jesse, my main man!”

Harry slides his glasses back onto his nose while Cisco orders two hot chocolates, one with Bailey’s and whipped cream, one plain. He looks at the clock.

“Drinks are on their way.” Cisco must notice Harry staring at the alarm. “Oh, don’t worry about the time. Drinking hot chocolate isn’t one of my offered services. This is pro bono.”

“That’s not necessary,” Harry says.

He doesn’t want to sip cocoa with Cisco and if he does he doesn’t want to do it for free. It would be too easy to forget, to confuse the arrangement they have with something warmer. He puts his feet on the floor to anchor himself.  

“You got somewhere better to be?” Cisco asks. His face holds an open challenge.

Harry settles back in the bed. “This is still billable,” Harry insists.

“You really think you’re gonna fuck me again? Hate to burst your bubble, pal. I’m pretty sure we’re both out of commission for the rest of the night.”

Cisco’s phone dings. Harry watches him smile and run his fingers along the keys.

“It’s rude to be on your phone while you’re on the clock.”

“I’m off duty,” Cisco mutters.

“Why do you still use that piece of junk?”

Cisco’s face twists in offense, as if Harry dealt him a physical blow. “How can you call this beauty a piece of _junk_? That’s so mean.”

“It’s accurate. Those things were practically useless.”

“Maybe that’s a little accurate,” Cisco admits. “But it has sentimental value. After I graduated and got my job, this baby was the first big thing I bought myself. Besides my apartment, I mean. And yeah, she left a lot to be desired as far as adaptability and power were concerned, but I fixed her up. The best part? No Apple updates.”

Harry turns to his side, head propped, staring at the phone. “What did you do to it?”

“Not much. Just some upgrades to the power adapter and design. Added a different battery, calibrated it to be used on any network - that’s what killed you, you know, making that deal with Central Mobile - and made it compatible with IOS apps. There are a couple I can’t get but nothing I can’t design better myself.”

“That’s not really not much,” Harry comments. Cisco shrugs but he’s smiling and Harry opens his palm. “May I?”

Cisco hesitates but hands it over. “Just, uh, don’t look at my pics.”

Harry runs his thumbs over the keys. “It’s been a long time since I held one of these. You really think that’s what killed us? The deal?”

“Absolutely. I mean the design and capabilities weren’t that far off from other market options. And you could’ve improved on it. Look how badass I made it and I’m not an entire team of STAR Labs communication techs. I bet there were already tons of ideas for the STAR Phone 2 before this even came out.”

“I don’t know about that.”

When he hands Cisco the phone back, Cisco’s frowning. “What do you mean? I figured, given how much of a control freak you are, you’d be all up in the business of all your projects.”

“I’m not a control freak. I only take the reigns when other people are too incompetent to get the job done.”

“Control. Freak.” Cisco finally sits up, making a show of stretching his arms above his head and cracking his back. He twists and turns, showing the strong lines of his body, taunting Harry’s spent muscles. “Do you just glare at your employees until they give you all their suggestions? You should get a suggestion box, that way people don’t have to quake in fear when they bring up new projects. Or cry. I feel like you make people cry.”

“I don’t,” Harry says, but he remembers Spivot’s last day, and Raymond’s first, and a few dozen others in between. “There’s a certain lack of innovation on my team these days.”

“You do talk to your employees, right? Like, get their ideas and their feedback?”

“I know how to run my own company, Ramon.” There’s a knock at the door and James Jesse’s voice. “Get me my damn hot chocolate.”

“But I’m not wearing pants.”

“Neither am I.”

“Harry," he pouts.

Harry grabs a hotel robe. This is definitely the last time.

-

The next day, Harry seeks out Snow in the cafeteria. She's eating with her boyfriend - fiancé, husband, something - and she nearly chokes when he calls her name. 

“How are you coming with finding my new assistant?”

“I still don't see how that falls on me?” she says, looking at Raymond before she looks at him. “I reviewed some old candidates from when Patty was hired. If you're still really not going to take her back, I can help you schedule interviews.”

“Just pick someone who isn't an idiot.”

“But they're going to be your assistant. Shouldn't you make sure you like them before you hire them?”

Harry hears Cisco's voice in his head, just for a moment, and speaks with it without realizing. “I trust your judgement.”

Raymond almost chokes, then. Snow pats him hard between the shoulders. Harry hopes they never have children.

“This trusting my judgement thing,” she asks as soon as Raymond has gotten control of himself. “Does that extend to the GEOS project?”

“That project isn't about trust. It's about necessity.”

It's about the survival of the company and the realization of what will be Harry's greatest achievement besides Jesse. The words are nothing he hasn't said before but he's always delivered them in a tougher package. Snow seems to take this easier.

“I'll find you someone,” she says eventually. “But if you don't like them, then next time you're on your own.”

Harry nods. “Fair enough. Enjoy the rest of your meal.”

-

When Harry arrives for work the next morning, Lisa Snart is sitting at the assistant desk.

She doesn't recognize him.

She's dressed to the nines, professional and crisp, and greets him with a cup of coffee. Something itches under his skin and he has the urge to fire her immediately.

But she thanks him, promises not to disappoint him, and hands him a sticky note with the people she's turned away from his office in neat handwriting.

Harry takes it. He gives her a week.

-

Lisa is still around after a few weeks. So is Cisco.

Jesse comes home to visit for a long weekend. They run and visit the country club to play tennis and eat the potato soup she claims is better in Central City than in Boston. She tells him about working on Dr. Stein’s team and about her 100 meter dash times being shaved slower and slower.

Harry tells her about the contract progress and makes up details of the project. He doesn’t think she’d understand any better than Snow does, the importance of the funding or making a partner in the military. War is a profit maker that can always be counted on. Harry doesn't have to like it. A few more tests, a few more presentations, and Harry will have the partner he needs to achieve what he and Tess built STAR Labs for in the first place. The closeness of it breathes a little more life into him.

It’s that life Jesse comments on. She asks him if he’s been going out more, if business is better, because he seems less on edge. More relaxed than she’s seen him since she moved. She even jostles his elbow and asks if he’s started seeing anyone.

He doesn’t tell her about Cisco for the obvious reasons. It’s more difficult than it should be: at breakfast he orders whipped cream in his coffee because he’s contracted Cisco’s addiction for it and when they go to the movies and he makes an offhand comment about the Justice League that’s straight from Cisco’s mouth. Jesse notices, but she doesn’t ask him any other questions.

Harry considers saying he went on a few brief dates that didn’t lead to anything, that were clearly not right for him, that he stopped seeing them, but he keeps the half truths and half lies to himself. He doesn’t want to get her hopes up. And he hasn’t exactly stopped seeing Cisco yet.

He keeps meeting up with Cisco. He finally gets to come down Cisco’s throat and immediately wishes he hadn’t. It’s black out good. Harry starts to think about it too much, touch himself in the shower and think about the way Cisco sucks him all the way down while still flicking his tongue over Harry’s veins. Once Cisco realizes it pushes his jaw past the point of aching to blow Harry a second time but that starting off with it gets Harry panting in under half an hour, he initiates every meeting by holding Harry’s hips in bruising hands and sucking him dry.

It’s everything Harry didn’t want to happen. He stops focusing on the crazed cagey tightness of his skin and starts focusing on Cisco, planning how to release his tension before it can even build. Thoughts of Cisco on his knees and his back and the way he says Harry’s name like Harry’s name is the only one he moans keep sneaking up on him when he’s stressed or can’t sleep.

He really shouldn't see Cisco again. Whatever he's getting out of this arrangement - he barely even knows anymore - isn't making up for what he's losing.

-

Harry texts Cisco before his next meeting with Eiling. Cisco replies just before Eiling comes through the door.

_i'm not available until friday :/ is that good for u???_

He frowns at the phone. Cisco has never not been available to him when he's asked.

“Dr. Wells. I'm about to make your day.” Eiling takes a seat at the table and opens his briefcase.

Harry sincerely doubts that he will.

“I have no doubt that you will,” he says. “What progress notes are you here to share?”

Has Cisco picked up a new client? Is he taking time off? He'd used some sort of expression Harry could only decipher from context as disappointed. Surely :/ doesn't describe vacation time.

“The serum formula was approved by the FDA.”

Harry's yanked from his Cisco musings at the words.

“It has?”

Eiling nods, grinning the too sharp smile that sets Harry’s distaste on edge. He doesn't have to like Eiling or even the project to work on it, though.

“And the DOD has given their blessing. All I need is your John Hancock and we can begin the next phase.”

Eiling produces the final copies of the contract they've been working on for months. When Harry signs it he feels 20 pounds lighter.

Excitement knocks around in his skull. He wants to relieve the pressure and call Jesse now, tell her all of his patience and negotiations and headaches have finally paid off. He wants to get on the intercom and share with his staff that the vision that brought them all here will be realized soon. He wants to see Cisco's smile.

Harry clamps down on the desire to tell Cisco anything about this. Cisco doesn't need to know anything and whatever congratulations he offered wouldn’t be real. Or it would be and Harry would spend time he doesn’t have making his head pound trying to figure it out.

“I’ll have my team briefed ASAP and we’ll begin work. My assistant will schedule a press conference for tomorrow.”

Eiling nods. “I’ll be there with a few of my men.”

They exchange a few more words. Eiling invites Harry out for a drink but he declines, citing too much work on the next phase. After he leaves, Harry instructs Lisa to call the conference.

“Do you need me to help you prepare a statement? I was a Communications Major at CCC. I can help.”

Her smile is earnest. It reminds Harry of Cisco’s and he wants to ask her if she’s talked to him, seen him again. If their meeting was just clandestine or if she really is a client too. Does Cisco praise her? Does Cisco lose his mind when she touches him? Does he look at her the same way he looks at Harry?

“That won’t be necessary,” Harry says. “Just call the press conference.”

Cisco told Harry she wasn’t a client, and Harry has no reason not to believe it. Cisco has no reason to lie to him.

-

The press conference goes well. It is, perhaps, the best one he’s ever had. There is a sense of unease in his bones as he approaches the stadium without Jesse brightening his peripheral, but she promised to watch, and he holds onto that.

Eiling speaks briefly although Harry would have rather he didn’t. Something in the self-assured slick of his voice creases oily in Harry’s stomach. No one concerned with truly doing what’s best or what’s right is ever so confident in their actions. If his tone is a turn-off for trust, though, none of the press make it clear. They snap photos and ask questions until it’s Harry’s turn to the mic.

Harry delivers the same vague promises for a stronger nation and better tomorrow before revealing a tease of what STAR Labs next innovation in technology will be.

That night, Jesse calls to congratulate him. They only speak a few minutes - she has a study group - but she sounds bright and young, the way she used to when she was little and saw her daddy on TV. Harry’s stomach has smoothed all of its knots when he hangs up with her.

There’s a text bubble that drops over his screen when he presses end call.

_saw ur press conference!!! congrats on the contract also on how hot u look in a suit ;) see u friday big guy_

There’s an urge to text back and Harry finds his fingers lingering on the screen. He wants to tease, ask if he’s going to be charged for the time, but he doesn’t. Cisco’s never texted him first before. Harry doesn’t know what it means. If it means anything.

He tells himself he doesn't want it to mean anything, but he does, even though he's not sure what. Something. Something he didn’t pay for. Something Cisco is giving of his own accord.

Harry goes to bed to quiet his mind and rest as much as he can before the pandemonium of a new project settles in. He falls asleep with his phone under his pillow, conversation with Cisco still pulled up.

-

Three days before Harry’s next meeting with Cisco, Harry finds him at the Central City College track.

He’s in bright blue sweats and a bright red shirt with _adidas_  embroidered on both.His hair is twisted on top of his head, flyaways swaying in the morning breeze. His shoulder blades flow strong like water under his t-shirt as he stretches. Harry can hear the now familiar tone of his bitching from the track gate.

There’s a guy with him that looks like some humanoid cross between a giraffe and a golden retriever. He’s wearing red, too, and is stretching his lanky limbs with far more ease and joy than Cisco does. Surely the kid isn’t a client. He looks too young to be hiring escorts and the way he pushes at Cisco’s chest speaks more of friendship than lust.

Harry hesitates. Cisco hasn’t seen him yet. He could slip away, go home, get his run on the treadmill.

Then Cisco turns around and his eyes go wide.

“Harry?” he says, loudly, and All Neck turns too. He looks as surprised as Cisco.

Sighing, Harry makes his way towards them.

“Dr. Harrison Wells,” All Neck says as he approaches. “It is such an honor to meet you. I’m a huge, huge fan of your work. The paper you wrote on - ”

“Barry.” Cisco hits the guy, _Barry_ , on the stomach with the back of his hand. “Your fangirl is showing. Sorry about my friend. He’s not nearly as cool as me.”

“Clearly.”

Cisco grins at Harry's quip. Barry still looks excited if not more confused. Harry has a distinct impression he wears that expression often.

“So, you run?” Harry asks, wincing internally. He sounds as cool as Barry.

“I jog,” Cisco says. “While bitching about it. But I bitch really fast so I burn more calories.”

“You could try bitching at a more even rate but for a longer period of time. Achieve the same results. Which is nothing, by the way.”

Cisco stretches his hands above his head, dragging his shirt above his belly button. Harry’s tongue feels heavy in his mouth.

“I have a very full, very busy life. I don’t have time to go slower for longer. When it comes to exercise, anyway.”

Harry’s not imagining the dip in Cisco’s voice. He definitely isn’t imagining the little upwards tick of Cisco’s lips. The easy heat pulls Harry forward before he remembers: they’re in public. No one else is at the track right now but they could be soon.

Not to mention Cisco’s friend is still standing right next to him. Not to mention this meeting hasn’t been paid for.

“Okay…” Barry says, stretching out the word. “So. Wow. Want to hear something crazy? I totally forgot I told Iris I would walk her dog this morning! And I have to go do that. Like right now.”

“Oh. Are you sure that’s right now, dude? Because 7:10 in the morning is an oddly specific time for your new girlfriend to ask you to walk her dog. Also didn’t know she had a dog.” Cisco’s eyes are narrow. It sets Harry’s suspicions on edge, too.

“Yeah. Well. She does. So I’m going to go do that. But you should totally stay dude! Go on a run with the iconic and legendary Dr. Harrison Wells.”

Cisco’s face changes completely when Barry tells him to stay.

“That sounds like a great plan. Good call, Barry. I’ll shoot you a text when I’m ready for you to come get me. So. Better go. Feed the dog or Iris will dump you and your life will be ruined.”

“And then I’d go crazy and no one wants that!” Barry smiles too bright and gives Cisco a quick hug, patting his shoulder three times in quick succession.

Harry watches Cisco watch Barry run from the track to the only other car in the lot.  

“He’s kind of...slow,” Harry comments. “Is he going to ask how you know me?”

“I won't tell him,” Cisco assures quickly. “I can think of something. Like you said he's kind of. Slow. And we work together, so he knows how to be discreet.”

“He works at Mercury too?” Harry shakes his head. Some people have poor taste.

“What are you running today?” Cisco asks as Harry joins him in stretching. “We were gonna do a mile.”

“I was going to run three.”

“Ew,” Cisco says, rounded nose crinkling. “God, no wonder your body is so sick. You torture it into being hot. I may be soft but at least I love myself.”

“Soft is good.” Harry thinks of Cisco’s thighs under his hands and Cisco’s belly quivering when he drags his stubbled cheek across it. How good the give of Cisco’s skin feels against his mouth.

“Aw. You’re saying I have a good body? Thanks Harry.” He glances around the track. “So… do you wanna run, like, together?”

“Will it be added to my next bill?” Harry asks, teasing.

Cisco hesitates. “Actually, I - this probably isn't the best time for this, but. There's something I kind of need to talk to you about. I didn't think it would come up and, well, honestly I thought you'd notice. But. The thing is.”

“Spit it out, Ramon. I do have to go to work today.”

That shuts Cisco’s mouth. Then he opens it again. “Speaking of billing. Have you noticed anything... off, about your payments?"

"No. But I have a woman who keeps close track of my accounts so I don't have to. Is something wrong?"

Cisco bites his lip. "There was a billing issue. Some people weren't getting the direct bills withdrawn so they weren't being charged so I was just going to. Let you know about that."

"Okay." Harry's accountant is fairly thorough and Harry had informed her there may be some withdraws from Mercury Lounge. She hasn't said anything to him about. He assumed she was being discreet. 

"Is this weird?” Harry stares at him blankly. “This feels kind of weird. I mean, this clandestine meeting, and us working out together. I can call Barry back. I don't want to invade your space. I don't want to make it. Weird.”

Harry tilts his head back, considering. Maybe it should feel strange, running into Cisco here, the idea of running with him. It doesn’t, though. He thinks of how much nicer it is when Jesse is bouncing along beside him, laughing, trying to pull ahead of him or keeping his pace.

So Harry says, “You forcing me to drink hot chocolate naked with you while watching that Scientology documentary was weird. This is just… pitiful.”

Cisco furrows his brows. “That documentary was eye opening as fuck. And what's pitiful?”

“You actually thinking you could keep up with those hobbit legs of yours.”

Offense has Cisco's mouth dropping. “Hobbit - did you just say hobbit legs? Hobbit legs?” Cisco puts his hands on his hips. “Hobbit legs this, bitch.”

Cisco takes off. Harry watches the way his ass and hair bun bounce, smiling, before catching up with him.

They end up running a mile and a half. After Harry meets Cisco's stride, Cisco tries to pull forward a few more times but eventually settles for running side by side. They don't speak as they jog. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to be in companionable silence. Harry enjoys it.

Cisco is another creature entirely when he’s not moving his mouth. There’s a gentle kind of grace in the way he keeps pace with Harry’s long strides. He looks peaceful, wrapped in the morning light, and soft despite the garish hue of his clothes. His hair moves in the wind. His breathing is even and Harry finds himself keeping time with Cisco’s inhales and exhales instead of his own.

Every time Harry slides his gaze to drink Cisco in, Cisco is already watching him. Neither of them look away when their eyes meet. Cisco just grins, small but genuine, and Harry doesn’t do anything at all.

On the fourth lap, Cisco breaks the lazy spell by whining that his side hurts. By the time they’ve finished the sixth lap, he’s complained himself out of breath. He collapses on the grass, flopping onto his back with his legs and arms spread like a starfish. It’s so ridiculous Harry can’t help but laugh as he kneels at Cisco’s side.

“You know if you focused on breathing instead of talking about how you can’t breathe, you would breathe better.” Harry takes a swig from his water bottle and notices Cisco doesn’t have one. “You’re not sick, are you?”

“What? Why?” Cisco pants.

Wordlessly, Harry presses the water bottle to his hands. Cisco blinks, clearly surprised, but takes it with a thanks.

“I feel like I’m gonna die. That was too much. And you were gonna run twice that much? I don’t need abs that bad. I don’t need anything bad enough to run three miles. Even if there was a zombie after me, I wouldn’t need to get away from it three miles of running worth. My side is on fire.”

“You sound like my daughter when I took her on her first run. She was 11.”

“I am 11,” Cisco groans, sitting up so he can stretch out his legs. “But a very mature 11. How old is your daughter now?”

“18,” Harry says without wondering if he should be sharing personal details with the escort he keeps meaning to stop hiring. This is Jesse, the joy of his life. He can’t not share. “She’s going to Harvard.”

Cisco stops stretching to smile. “What? That’s awesome! What’s she majoring in? What does she want to do?”

“Everything. And she’s smarter than me, so I have no doubt she will.”

“Wow.” Cisco shakes his head, fingers twirling in the grass, face alight. “You must be so proud of her.”

“I am. She’s brilliant.”

“Gets it from her old man.” Cisco jostles their shoulders together in a familiarity that Harry doesn’t quite feel he’s earned. It feels nice anyway. “I bet she’s proud of you, too.”

That drags Harry’s gaze to Cisco’s face again. He studies Cisco’s profile, the sheen of sweat that’s still clinging to the soft hair around his temple. “Why do you say that?”

“I mean, you were pretty impressive at that press conference the other day. And handsome. And you're going to use science to change the world. I was - I'd be proud of you.”

Harry's own side feels like it's on fire. He takes a drink from his water bottle and tries to swallow his reaction, the words he wants to say. The endorphin's from his runner’s high surge against his natural instinct to remain detached.

“I'm not changing the world. At least, not with the US military. I don't even think the project we're attempting is going to work.”

“But what about everything you and that General guy said about new technology to protect soldiers? To keep peace with innovation and not destruction?”

“It's a goal. I'm just not sure it's an achievable one.”

Cisco's frown burrows little lines in his forehead. “Why try then?”

Harry could bullshit an answer and probably should. But something about the tilt of Cisco's head, the way he watches Harry like he just can't fathom what Harry is saying but wants to understand, has Harry saying what he shouldn't.

“Because the money from this contract plus whatever support it garners for STAR can be used to finish a project that's been on the back burner far too long. Something that really could change the world.”

Cisco is leaning into Harry's personal space, transfixed. “What?”

Harry would have to be an idiot to be swayed by Cisco's light breathing, his full lips open and waiting for an answer, the curious dart of his eyes. But lust makes its first appearance of the morning, coiling copper in Harry's gut. Harry can't stop himself.

“I'm building a particle accelerator.”

Cisco's mouth drops open. “No way,” he breathes. “That's - talk about goals that aren't achievable.”

“They are,” Harry says, his own breathing rocketing alongside Cisco's. There is still a glisten of sweat on Cisco's skin and Harry has the urge to taste it. To press Cisco into the morning dew grass and hold him still and lick every dawn wrapped inch of him.

Cisco bites his lip and stares unabashed at Harry's mouth. “You're serious.”

“I'm a few years from completion but with the resources from this deal I'll be well on my way. I have everything ready, theoretically, to finish it. And _then_ I'll change the world.”

“Holy fuck dude.” Cisco licks his lips.

Harry feels his eyes and want dragged wet with the movement. The fire in his muscles has moved to his bones. He's suddenly aware of the fact that they're still alone on the track.

“I've literally never been as attracted to anyone in my life as I am to you in this very moment.”

And Harry _believes_ him. For all of Harry's questions about Cisco's motives and authenticity, Harry can see the truth in the dilation of Cisco's already dark eyes. Cisco wants him and right now it doesn't have anything to do with career or compensation.

Harry swallows. Cisco bites his lip again and squirms like he's fighting to stay contained in his skin.

“It would be bad to make out with you on the college track, right? I'm feeling like it would be bad but I can't quite remember why?”

Because anyone could drive by and see them. Because this isn't a scheduled appointment and Cisco's not on the clock. Because if they touch and Harry isn't paying for it direct deposit then how is Harry paying for it?

Harry doesn't make any of these incredibly valid points. He just moves, tackling Cisco into the damp turf, getting his hands around the curve of Cisco's waist. Cisco grins as the breath is knocked out of him and Harry replaces it with his tongue.

They kiss rough as the track beside them. The smell of grass and morning and Cisco tangles in Harry's nose. He presses flush against Cisco and wants more than he has in years.

He doesn't care if Cisco bills him for this later. He doesn't protest or chide himself for how removed from detached this hot slide of mouths is. It feels good and rough and _real_.

Harry realizes when Cisco's tongue unfurls in his mouth that it feels real because it is. Harry didn't ask for this; Cisco offered it freely.

A horn honks. Cisco's phone dings. Both noises are avalanche heavy and startle Harry from Cisco's body.

“Shit.”

Cisco sits up and Harry's gaze zeroes in on the stretch of his sweatpants over the brazen outline of his dick. Harry just wants to tackle him again, slide his hand around Cisco's flush skin, and stroke him off steady and slow. He would bet money Cisco's already wet at the tip, would cry out if Harry swiped his thumb across it. His fingers curl into the ground. This can't happen now but Harry can't think of anything he wants more than to touch Cisco until he begs.

“You have no idea how much I want to jerk you off right now,” Cisco says, wincing as he shifts his sweats and grabs his phone.

Harry closes his eyes. Reminds himself to breathe. Christ.

“I gotta - Barry's gonna be here in a few minutes to pick me up.” He huffs a laugh and runs his fingers over his hair. “I have like a thousand things to do today and now I really don't wanna do any of them.”

Harry doesn't let himself wonder about what - or who - those things are.

“Talk to me about something unsexy. I really don't wanna be in this situation when my boy Barry comes back to get me.”

Harry laughs without humor and shifts himself. He thinks of what he knows about Cisco, what he knows Cisco likes.

“Well. This morning I ate waffles without butter,” he says and Cisco makes an unhappy noise. “And I used a three in one shampoo and conditioner and body wash. And I woke up at 5:00 AM.”

“God, stop. I wanted you to give me a verbal cold shower, not break my heart. I can't believe you live like that.”

Barry pulls up a few minutes later. He doesn't get out of the car, just honks, and Harry frowns.

“Kids today. No manners.” Cisco smiles. “I'll see you Friday?”

Harry nods. He expects Cisco to lean up on his tip toes and kiss him the way he does after every meeting. But this isn't a meeting and Cisco's _whatever_ is watching them from his car. It doesn't ease Harry's disappointment when Cisco just grips his shoulder and hurries to the car.

Harry stays and runs until his lungs expand, too hot and too full. He collapses on the patch of grass he pinned Cisco to earlier. He thinks he can still smell Cisco in the earth.

-

The morning distracts Harry throughout the rest of the day.

He hasn't just been going through the motions for the past few weeks; in fact for the first time in a long time he feels electrified, moving through the company with all of his energy and ideas renewed. As quicksilver as his body feels, his brain keeps having grainy flashbacks to Cisco underneath him. 

Cisco watching him with chemical want, something true. Cisco groaning under his mouth and clawing at the grass. Having Cisco without paying for it.

Except Harry _is_ paying for it. He drifts in and out of focus at a staff meeting and forgets to eat his lunch. Lisa has to snap her fingers in front of his face when she reads him his messages.

She's going over his schedule for tomorrow when Harry's phone buzzes. Once, twice, three times in a row. Harry itches to answer it.

“Go ahead,” Lisa sighs. “You weren't paying attention anyway.”

Harry reaches for it. He wants to see Cisco's name on the screen. He does.

_so this morning was wild_

_i just wanted to let u know barrys my bff and i told him i met u while i was in grad school so no worries_  

_and we're still on for friday right? i wanna hear more about ur project ;)_

Heat licks at Harry's cheeks and groin. He quickly slides his phone back on the desk. 

Lisa is watching him with her head tilted. “I'm not going to ask,” she says, smile teasing.

“Good. It's none of your business.” His voice doesn't carry the gruffness it normally does.

If Lisa notices, she doesn't comment.

-

There's a coffee shop not far from the Labs. Harry doesn't go there often, but Thursday morning after his run, he buys the biggest and most caffeinated beverage they have. He asks for whipped cream.

He sits at a corner table, taking in the silence of the nearly empty shop without the distractions of his home or office. He wants to get his head straight before he meets with Cisco again.

If the definition of insanity is doing the same thing and expecting different results, this thing with Cisco is insanity. Despite that, Harry doesn't want to stop. And Harry's never been one to do something he doesn't want to unless absolutely necessary.

Warmth and caffeine buzz through him. He watches the news from his table. There's a crawl about Mercury Lounge and record stocks. He thinks about Cisco's dark eyes and all the hot, honest things Cisco has whispered when they're together.

Harry can't pinpoint when his desire to maintain mechanical distance morphed into this utterly opposite thing, a craving for something real. Something Cisco keeps giving him. Harry doesn't want to pretend he doesn't like it anymore. That he doesn't want to keep it.

He thinks that, maybe, he can.

- 

“So, what's on the agenda tonight? Because if you don't have any ideas, I wanted to run something by you.”

Harry raises his eyebrow as curiosity bites sharp in his gut. He and Cisco are lying naked on the hotel bed, facing each other. They've been kissing for so long Harry's lips sting.

“You never follow my agenda anyway. I don't know why tonight would be any different.” 

Cisco smiles and grabs his bag from beside the bed. “I figured since you told me about something you're working on, it's only fair I tell you about something I'm working on.”

He rattles through his bag and pulls something out, sets it on the bed. It's small and slender and black, with straps and buttons on the side. Harry stares at it.

“I don't know what I'm looking at.”

“It's a fucking machine,” Cisco says brightly. “A portable one. First of it's kind.” 

“A. What.” Harry's mouth grows dry and he shifts, sitting up straighter. His fingers tremble with the urge to touch, but he isn't sure he should. “What does it. Do.”

“It does literally what the name says it does.” Cisco tilts his head. “You've never heard of a fucking machine?”

“Obviously not.” Harry feels curious and a little hot, a little out of breath.

“Normally they're a lot bigger. They're bulky and not at all discrete. We have a version in the Gifts from Mercury line but it's our lowest selling product. Half the feedback is that it's too hard to put together and the other half is that it's too hard to operate alone. This little baby addresses all of those problems while maintaining the appeal of the original.”

Cisco pats it lovingly. It occurs to Harry -

“Did you build that?”

Cisco looks to the side, a little bashful, and shrugs. “I just helped out the guys in R&D who develop all of our - Mercury Lounges - paraphernalia. I maybe sketched the design and built the prototype. I lend a hand to the department on slow weeks.”

“Mercury makes sex toys,” Harry says slowly but his mind is still stuttering over the idea of Cisco helping out the guys in R&D.

“They didn't before I started working there. But I mentioned to Dr. McGee that there was a whole untapped market we could benefit from.”

“You are the mastermind behind - what did you call it? Gifts from Mercury?”

Cisco nods happily. “Yup. I know, I know. Beautiful _and_ a marketing genius? How could one man be so blessed.”

“How indeed.” Harry gives in and reaches forward, running his fingertips over the smooth - silicone, Harry thinks. Cisco lets him examine it.

“Do you,” Cisco starts, drawing Harry's gaze. He licks his lips and Harry knows exactly what he's going to say. All the blood rushes from his brain. “Do you want me to show you how it works?”

Harry nods.

Cisco grins and moves with joy Harry hasn't seen before. He sets up the machine and Harry watches him with no words and no judgement. He's clearly proud of what he's made. More than that, he's clearly proud to share it with Harry, and Harry knows enough about engineers and enough about Cisco to recognize the importance.

Once the device is ready, Cisco settles on his hands and knees, and Harry's professional interest melts into molten lust. Cisco smiles over his shoulder. 

"Wanna help me out?"

"I thought you said this could be used alone," Harry says, but he's already rising to his knees, hands twitching to follow Cisco's direction. 

"But it can also be used with friends. That's the beauty of her."

Harry moves the machine. He wraps the black straps around Cisco's thighs, mesmerized by the contrast of color and texture with Cisco's supple skin. His hands linger on Cisco's legs, petting up and down, soaking in the heat and the twitch of Cisco's muscles. Cisco instructs him to grab the remote out of the bag then hit setting 1. 

Part of Harry wants to argue, because he doesn't follow orders. But even the snapping teeth of his ego are eager to sink into Cisco. He does as Cisco asks. It's worth it. 

The toy slides into Cisco slowly. Harry forgets to breathe until it's flush in Cisco's body then lets out a deep, shuddering breath. Admittedly he hadn't understood the appeal of a fucking machine. He's starting to get it, now.

Cisco sighs and presses himself back. The sleek curve of his body, the curving pant of his moan, the way he takes the machine so easily, paint something elegant and dirty that has Harry reaching for himself without a thought. He can tell Cisco has done this before. Either by himself or with the guys in R&D. Harry tries to concentrate on the picture in front of him and not consider all the possibilities this presents. He'll save those for later. 

"Turn up the setting, Harry," Cisco says. Harry doesn't want to, yet.

He wants to keep watching the torturous glide, the way it moves slick and slow inside of Cisco, spreading him open but not nearly as wide as Harry does himself. Cisco shoots him an expectant look and Harry clenches his jaw but does what he's told.

The second setting moves a little faster, a little rougher. Cisco bites his lip at the increase of pressure. He doesn't groan around the fake dick the same way he groans around Harry's inside of him and Harry finds a twisted flare of victory in the realization. Harry keeps touching himself to the rhythm of the machine.

"More," Cisco pants and Harry gives it to him. 

Cisco starts to truly come alive at the third setting. His face is flushed, sweat gathering at his hairline, and he's arching his back even further. Harry has the urge to trail his fingernails over the curve. He doesn't, sits and watches, both an observer and the one in partial control of Cisco's pleasure. 

"Where does it hit you?" Harry rasps.

It takes a while for Cisco to answer. "I designed it - so you could adjust the height. At this height - it's hitting me right - oh  _fuck_."

Harry turns it up to 4. There are 6 altogether, and Harry doesn't know if either of them are going to make it, because 4 is significantly more brutal than three. The toy moves with machine efficiency that impresses Harry at both an intellectual and primal level. Harry can't imagine what it must feel like, having something cool and mechanical and ruthless, jabbing pressure right against Cisco's sweet spot without mercy. It's incredible just to see. Cisco is panting in earnest now. His body has stopped snapping to meet the thrusts, unable to keep up with the speed, and he just shakes and lets the machine make a mess of him. 

"Turn it - turn it up, Harry. I'm so close."

"Not yet," Harry tells him, licking his own lips. He wants to keep Cisco like this as long as possible. On edge, wanton, pinned by the lust of his own making. The thrill of it all grips Harry by the heart and the dick. He can barely breathe around it. 

"Harry, don't be an asshole, come on. Turn it up."

"Not yet," Harry repeats. "You have no idea how you look like this. I just want to watch you a little longer."

Cisco makes a pitiful noise but doesn't tell Harry to turn it up again. Harry grips himself harder. He can't keep up with the machine either, but that's not what he needs, anyway. The slick sounds coupled with the mechanics of it, all wrapped in the obscenity of Cisco's body taking the toy with lovely abandon, is more than enough to get Harry just as close as Cisco is. Once he feels his toes curling, feels just as desperate as Cisco must feel, he hits the 5 on the remote.

Cisco nearly yelps at the increase. The machine moves like a monster now, a living thing with a single purpose, to fuck the sense right out of Cisco as efficiently as possible. Harry can appreciate that. He bucks into his own grip while Cisco cries out and finally reaches around to fist his cock. Their rhythms almost match and when they both finally come, it's within moments of each other.

They both slump when it's over. Cisco dips his head onto the bed, hair flowing over his skin, and shudders. Harry isn't shaking nearly as much but his hands aren't steady as he undoes Cisco from the machine. Once Cisco is free, he turns, body and breath unsteady, and sags into Harry for a messy kiss. Harry meets him groan for groan until breathing becomes an issue. He falls back onto the bed while Cisco does whatever he needs to do to clean his machine.

“So,” Cisco says when he's finished, smiling and fucked out as he settles back onto the bed. “It's no particle accelerator, but what do you think?”

Harry thinks that machine isn't so much of a sex toy as a weapon of intimate destruction. He feels emptied out just from watching. “I think you're in the wrong part of this business.”

Cisco laughs. “Luckily my boss takes suggestions from staff in every department.” 

“Was that supposed to be subtle?”

“Nope. I was just thinking about what you said, about needing the military contract to fund the accelerator. And that just... sucks, you know? That you have to depend on something you don't believe in to get your dream off the ground.”

Harry pushes his glasses back onto his nose. He's heard this enough that it's not so much irritation as exasperation that rises up his spine. “Yes, it does suck. But that is the way if the world. We make compromises.”

Nodding, Cisco pushes up from his belly to his elbows. It pushes his shoulder blades together and sends his hair cascading over his arms. Harry reaches out, mapping all of Cisco’s softness, and Cisco sighs into the touch. 

“I have to talk to you about something,” Cisco says, sudden and serious. Harry’s fingers falter. “About the other day.”

Harry wondered if this conversation was coming. He’s surprised but not altogether unprepared. “I know.”

Cisco’s head whip lashes to the side so quickly his neck pops. “Ow. Shit. What do you mean you know?” Cisco sits up, legs crossed, so they’re face to face. “Do you mean you _know_ you know?”

“I know what you’re going to say,” Harry clarifies. “About the track. I imagine it’s not customary to give freebies. I know you have to bill me for an hour.”

Cisco’s drums his fingers over his knees. It’s a nervous gesture, one Harry’s only seen a few times. 

“Was there something else?”

“No. Yes. I mean,” Cisco says. He pushes at his hair. “I’m not going to bill you. But you’re not wrong. What we did - I don’t usually do that. I’m not supposed to. I mean, why buy the cow if you’re getting the milk for free, right?”

“I don’t expect that,” Harry tells him seriously. He doesn’t. “What happened happened because a number of variables collided in ways we couldn’t have anticipated. I understand that and I understand it doesn’t change the nature of our arrangement.”

“Most people wouldn’t be so understanding. They would think hey, if I didn’t have to pay for it a few days ago, why should I have to pay for it now?” Cisco looks in his lap.

Harry scoots forward and uses his fingers to tip Cisco’s chin, make their gazes even. “I’m not most people.”

“No,” Cisco says, staring at his mouth. “You’re not. But I’d get it if - ” 

“You want me,” Harry interrupts. Cisco closes his mouth. “That’s not a bad thing. I want you. And I want things to remain uncomplicated. So unless you want to end this - ”

“I don’t. I really, really don’t.”

“Good. Then we’re on the same page. Now.” Harry urges him forward and Cisco comes easily, mouth warm and eager as always. “Why don’t you show me what other projects you have in that bag?”

-

The GEOS Project moves along, slowly but surely. There’s the buzz of potential flickering through STAR Labs like there hasn’t been since last year’s abysmal profits. Harry suspects it’s as much to do with having gorillas in the labs as having a new set of goals. The majority of staff work on testing and modifying the serum while a select team join Harry in getting the particle accelerator off the back burner.

Harry gives Jesse an update on the accelerator progress each time she calls. He’s more vague about GEOS. Jesse understands the principles of animal testing, but she has a soft spot for monkeys, and Harry doesn't want to upset her. She doesn’t seem all that interested in the details, anyway, navigating the conversation from STAR Labs to Queen Consolidated. 

“I’m sorry I can’t come to the gala,” she says without a hint of apology. “I’m swamped.”

“It’s fine. I can go stag.”

The Queen’s insist on throwing an obnoxious charity gala at their obnoxious company every year. Harry only went the first time because Tess dragged him - literally, by the earlobe - with the insistence that these events were where deals were made. After that, Harry went both out of respect and the fact that she’d been right.

He hasn’t made any deals with the heads of industry lately. But he also hasn't been floating in on the good graces of a lucrative government contract and a quarter finally in the black. This year will be different. He knows it.

“Daddy,” she says, sweet and gentle. “You know I love you and think you’re the best dad in the whole world. But don’t you think you need a date? A social buffer?” 

“No. I’m perfectly capable of managing social situations myself.”

“It’s great that you think that, but it’s just not realistic. You need a date. Someone who will make you interact with people, talk to people - preferably talk to people for you, actually. Someone who can, you know, charm people.”

“Are you saying I’m not charming?” Harry has a flashback to Cisco patting him sympathetically and telling him explicitly that he was, in fact, not charming. He imagines Cisco at the annual Queen gala, stuffing his face with hors devours and making best friends with everyone. He wonders if Cisco knows how to dance, not that Harry dances. He wonders how Cisco would look in a tux.

“You can come off as intimidating. People think you’re going to steamroll them. They want to partner with you, not make you their overlord.”

“I think I can manage one dance.” 

“It’s a _gala_ and it’s the biggest one of the year. Don’t you have someone from the lab you can take? One of the accountants or someone working on the GEOS Project? Even your PA, she seemed nice - ”

“Lisa is Mayor Snart’s sister,” Harry says out loud, considering. He still can’t quite shake the image of Cisco introducing himself to Oliver Queen, mouth full of shrimp. “I suppose she’d know what to do at a gala. And I suppose she’s charming.” 

“Whose Lisa? I meant Patty? Did you fire her already?”

“I’ll find someone,” Harry says instead of answering. “If you think it’s completely necessary. I’m sure - ” 

“It’s completely necessary.”

Harry sighs. 

-

Jesse tells him to get Lisa a gift before asking her to attend the gala. Harry thinks it’s wasteful, considering he’s going to _tell_ her she’s _working_ the gala, but he told Jesse he would and he doesn’t want to lie to her. She’ll know if he has. 

All Harry knows about Lisa is she’s excellent at making sure he doesn’t have to meet with people, she likes expensive clothes, and she keeps annotating his press statements and speeches like she’s his campaign manager. Her suggestions are decent, though, and he thinks of Cisco yapping at him about _nurturing talent_ to rebuild his company. As if Harry doesn’t know what he’s doing.

It does help him decide what to get her. A book on speech writing from a former Presidential adviser. Lisa would like that.

He’s at the _Once Upon A Time_ bookstore and resale shop when he’s sees him. Sees them.

Cisco is unmistakable. If Harry couldn’t tell it was him by the way his hair falls over his shoulder, Harry could mark him by the brightly colored jeans that cling to his ass and thighs. Cisco is standing in line with a stack of books piled up to his chin.

Harry smiles to himself, just barely, and begins to walk towards him. He thinks of saying something like _I didn’t even know you could read_ or _We have to stop running into each other like this_. He thinks of asking Cisco to join him perusing the options and maybe inviting him for coffee or drinks or to the Grand, depending on his schedule. Harry has some other errands to complete today, but he can spare a few hours. 

As he’s walking, a woman with pants tighter than Cisco’s and a pretty face full of freckles and mischief walks to Cisco's side. She pokes him with bright red fingernails. Cisco yelps and grips his books tighter.

“Don’t _do_ that!” he says, but he’s laughing. Really laughing. Harry hangs back. “These are all yours, you know. I would’ve been dropping _your_ books everywhere.”

She’s laughing, too. “Gracias, Cisco.” She kisses his cheek.

Harry slips behind the nearest bookcase. His heart has started to jump for no reason. He peers at them while pressing himself against the books, trying to stay out of Cisco’s line of sight. Their voices are too low from this distance but Harry can see happiness in the way their mouths move, quick and light. Cisco nearly drops the books again but the woman reaches out to steady them.

Harry watches Cisco pile the books on the counter and fish his wallet from his jeans. He doesn’t think that’s a client or a woman Cisco just met or Cisco’s bff. She doesn't fit any of the supporting roles Harry has met. She’s leaning against Cisco, head on his shoulder, palm pressed to the small of his back. They look comfortable together. Natural. Warm. Even loving.

He turns into the bookcase, looking away from the intimacy to stare into the void of dark hardback cases. Is that Cisco's girlfriend?

Harry assumed whatever his professional relationship had morphed into with Cisco was unique. _You’re not like my other clients_. That's what Cisco had said and Harry had just believed him. Believed that Cisco didn’t share cocoa and morning jogs and free, non contracted touches with anyone else. That Cisco’s honest smile and heat were directed at Harry because he couldn’t help it, not because they were, as Harry original thought, part of his act.

If that woman is a client, though, then Harry’s not a special case. He’s not the exception, he’s the rule, and the belief he's been operating under, that Cisco wants the same way Harry does, is wrong.

She can’t be a client.

“Can I help you find something, sir?”

There’s a clerk to his right with a pleasant smile and load of books in her arms. She watches him expectantly.

“No,” Harry grits, and turns to hurry out of the shop.

He’s not looking in front of him, though, still glaring at the bookstore attendant, and runs shoulder to shoulder into Cisco.

“Watch where you’re going, bro,” the woman next to Cisco says.

Cisco has kneeled to pick up the bag of books he dropped. “Be cool, Cin. I'm sure he didn't - ” Cisco trails off when he stands. “Harry?”

His voice is higher than Harry has ever heard it. He pulls the books to his chest and his eyes dart between them.

“Harry,” the woman says, tilting her head. She drags her eyes over him. Evaluating, appraising. “Cindy. Always nice to meet one of Cisco's friends.”

She extends her hand. Harry doesn't take it. “I'm not a friend,” Harry says automatically.

Her face brightens. “Really? How do you two - ”

“Ah! We are running late. So, so late, for the very important thing we're doing. So we have to go.” Cisco gets both hands on Cindy’s shoulders, hurrying her away. “Sorry we can't chat but we'll see you later. Okay, thanks, bye!”

Cindy waves over her shoulder, smirking, and lets Cisco push her down the sidewalk.

Harry's left in the middle of the shop, blinking at the spot Cisco used to be.

He leaves, forgetting Lisa's book.

-

Harry reads an article called _So Your Significant Other Is An_ _Escort_. It's all about how, with the legalization of prostitution, the modern escort no longer has to hide their profession from their families and friends, and how to deal with dating someone who sleeps with other people for a living. The author explains the modern escort can be monogamous, that their profession doesn't impact their loyalty or their true feelings.

Escorts could separate the line between client and lover. Escorts would never feel for a client what they would for their significant other. Whoever engaged in a relationship with an escort didn't have to worry about a client posing a threat to their authentic relationship.

Harry reads a few more articles, all saying pretty much the same thing. He grows increasingly frustrated and eventually throws his tablet across the bedroom.

Just when he thought he understood what his relationship with Cisco was, Cindy pops up and throws everything off kilter.

He has plans to meet Cisco tomorrow and expects Cisco to text him: confirm their meeting and offer an explanation. But Cisco doesn't.

Harry's more irritable than usual the next day, according to Lisa. She reschedules his conference call with Eiling and keeps the staff out of his office. He doesn't protest.

For the first time ever, he gets to the Grand early. Cisco is nursing a water at the bar. His pants are peach and his navy shirt has no designs. He looks - not right. Harry's stomach twists.

“Whiskey sour,” Harry says, taking the seat next time him. “Water?”

“We have to talk,” Cisco says. He sounds not right, too. “I should be sober.”

Harry waits to speak until the bartender slides his drink across the bar. He takes a deep, burning gulp. Then he says, “So that was was your girlfriend.”

Cisco chokes on his water. “Cindy? Um, no. That's a no. She told me once she was a ride I wouldn't survive and I believe her.”

“So she was a client.” Harry downs the rest of his drink and slams it back with more force than he meant. This must be what Cisco wants to talk about. To come clean that Harry isn't the only client he has non-sexual extra curricular activities with, despite what he said. Despite how he keeps making Harry feel.

“God this is so awkward.” Cisco turns those gentle, dark eyes to Harry, looking just as earnest and true as he always has. “Cindy’s not a client. She - ”

“I get you have to protect your hooker-client privilege but seriously, Cisco. Are you going to tell me she's just another bff? Another girl you just met? It's like you expect me to believe I'm your only client.”

Cisco drops his gaze. “Can we not talk about this here?” 

Cisco's voice is low and it makes no sense. Harry's the one who should be embarrassed. He let himself think - Cisco made him think - 

Harry moves to get up only to feel Cisco's hand curl around his forearm.

“She is a client, okay? But it's not like with you. She doesn't pay me for the traditional services.”

Narrowing his eyes, Harry pulls his arm back. “What does she pay you for, then?”

“Can we go to the room first? Please?”

Cisco's never said _please_ before. It's pitiful but it's enough to break Harry's resolve. Harry nods and motions his arm for Cisco to lead the way.

-

“The boyfriend experience,” Harry repeats.

He's pacing while Cisco sits on the edge of the bed. Harry thinks this is the longest they've ever been in the same room together and kept all of their clothes on.

“Some people hire escorts - hire me for all the sex, none of the relationship. Some people hire me for all of the relationship, none of the sex.”

“And that's what Cindy pays you for?”

Cisco nods, but he's biting his lip. Harry watches him through narrow eyes.

“She's got family stuff. That is protected by hooker - client privilege. Long story short, her parents are loaded but they wouldn't give her a dime if she brought who she was actually sleeping with to Sunday dinner. But I'm very male and very charming so I'm her go to fake relationship.”

Harry leans against the hotel desk and pushes his sweaters up to his forearms. Cisco tracks the movement.

“We've kind of been doing it for a while. So we're close, for real. Friends. But that's all. It's not like…”

 _With_ _you_ , Cisco doesn't say.

Harry saw them. How easy they were together, how sweet, even when Cindy was was tickling her sharp nails along Cisco's ribs. He knows that's not what he has with Cisco. There's nothing platonic in their teasing.

“So this service,” Harry starts, speaking past a sudden tightness in his throat. “Is it just your charm that's available?”

“It's whatever the client wants.” Cisco looks a little caught, a little animal, and sits straighter in the bed. “Are you asking out of curiosity or…?”

“I have a charity thing next week and I've been told I should take someone along who has a little more charm than myself.”

“So like… anyone.”

“Or you.” Harry looks him over like he hasn't seen Cisco naked, spread apart, on his knees, shaking. “I think you could clean up good.”

“I'm practically a Puetro Rican Bond. But I don't think that's a good idea.”

“If it's because you can't dance, don't worry. No one will be expecting me to cut a rug.”

Cisco shakes his head. “I have to get Gideon to approve it and I'm not sure she will. It's a bigger commitment and it takes more time and you're already kind of - demanding.”

Harry pushes off the desk at that. He stalks forward, feeling like his limbs have been filled with still hot concrete. Cisco has to lean back to maintain eye contact and Harry takes advantage, caging Cisco between his arms.

“You've never complained about me being demanding before.”

“That's because you confuse me with your tall, rude, and handsome routine. I get dickstrated.”

Harry laughs. He still has what he thought he did with Cisco. Can have more, even. “Talk to Gideon.”

“I'll put in your request.” Cisco says the words against Harry's lips as he hooks his arms around Harry's neck. Harry's already twitching in his jeans. “Anyone ever tell you that you don't fight fair? Also that you're awful?”

“No,” Harry lies and licks into Cisco's mouth. Cisco tugs him the rest of the way into bed.


	2. Chapter 2

Thursday is a good day.

Harry has a conference call with Eiling where Harry updates him on their progress. A few test subjects are following verbal commands as opposed to signed ones, exciting possibilities far greater than increased susceptibility in soldiers, but Harry doesn't diverge from the meeting's purpose.

Jesse leaves him a voicemail during the meeting. She's been asked to stay on Dr. Stein’s team through the semester and the next.

He knows she's in class so he texts her _C_ _ongratulations, call me after class._  

She responds too quickly. _Since when do you know how to text?_

Snow takes Harry on a tour to assess their progress. She takes particular time showing him a subject they call Grodd who can wave and hold up fingers when they call out numbers.

Cisco sends him the message. _gideon said i can be two people's fake boyfriends at once. so get ready to tear up that dance floor_

Harry wonders if he's going to have to take Cisco to get a tux. He imagines it would be a frustrating, fruitful endeavor.

He tells Lisa to RSVP to the Hearts and Minds Gala for two. She doesn't comment, but when he asks her to schedule the jet, she does suggest arranging for champagne and strawberries. He takes her up on it and when all she does is smile at his insistence there's whipped cream, he thinks it's time to give her a raise.

-

“For some reason when you said private jet I didn't really comprehend that you meant private jet. This is so dope.”

Cisco keeps looking around, checking out controls and panels and the leather seats. Harry's never really taken pride in his wealth, but he can't help his smile as Cisco raves. When Cisco finally notices the chilled bottle of champagne and chocolate covered strawberries, he looks at Harry like it's the most impressive thing he's ever seen.

“Champs? Strawberries? You're not expecting to get laid _on_ the flight are you, Harry? I'll have you know I'm not that kind of girl - is that whipped cream?”

Harry nods in his seat. Cisco licks his lips.

“Can the pilot hear us back here?”

“Only if you're not quiet.”

“Next question: how do you feel about the fact that the pilot’s gonna hear us back here?”

Cisco finally takes the seat next to Harry. He buckles himself in while Harry pops the champagne.

“I feel like I'm in a rap video. The urge to twerk is unbelievably strong.”

Harry pours them both a glass. “I don't know what that means.”

“You're so old and out of touch Harry,” Cisco says, smiling fondly. “It's one of the things I - like about you.”

There's a pause in his words that makes Harry pause. He watches Cisco stuff a strawberry in his mouth. Then Mardon’s voice comes over the intercom, announcing they're about to take flight.

“These are so good, oh my God. You have to try one.”

Cisco reaches for a strawberry and puts it to Harry's mouth. Harry leans away.

“You know I don't like sweet stuff.”

“Except for me,” Cisco says. Harry rolls his eyes. “Just a bite?”

Harry sighs. “Fine.”

But when Harry reaches for the fruit, Cisco yanks it back with a grin. He raises the strawberry to his mouth and takes an obscenely slow bite, eyes fluttering at the taste. Harry's chest feels heavy.

Then Cisco curls a hand around Harry's neck. “C’mere,” he says, laughing, and Harry would admonish him for talking with his mouth full except suddenly Harry's mouth is full too. The taste of chocolate and fruit sour and Cisco's too sweet tongue explode.

They crush the strawberry between them. Harry can't quite remember ever liking fruit this much. He licks the slick of it from Cisco's tongue. Cisco lets the decadence and his moans tumble into Harry's mouth.

Harry wasn't actually planning to have sex in the jet. Make out a little, get Cisco keyed up before checking into the hotel, sure. But he's pretty sure Mardon would be able to hear them over the quiet hum of the jet. Harry had thought that would make him feel uncomfortable.

Apparently he feels just fine.

They kiss through lift off and leveling up. Cisco only breaks to grab more strawberries, alternating between taking appreciative bites and feeding them to Harry only to lick them from Harry's tongue.

Eventually Cisco slides his other hand across Harry's stomach. Harry's muscles flutter under the touch and heat rushes through him. He twists into Cisco as much as he can against the seat belt, palming Cisco's cheek, fingers stroking Cisco's throat.

“When can I take this seat belt off?” Cisco asks

“When Mardon makes the announcement.” Harry sucks Cisco's earlobe between his teeth, knowing exactly how it will make Cisco squirm.

“Oh, not fair,” Cisco whines, shifting in his seat, tilting into Harry's mouth.

Harry smirks. He doesn't know how, given what Cisco does for work, he manages to get Cisco so worked up. But it never loses heat.

“How about we make this trip a little more interesting?”

“What - ah, jerk, not so _hard_ \- what do you have in mind?”

Harry feels something absolutely vicious rise when he sucks the sensitive skin right below Cisco’s ear. The tick tack thrill of reducing Cisco to this is sharper than ever.

“I'll make you a deal. If you can keep from coming until we can take our seat belts off, I'll suck you right here.” Harry lets one hand slide to Cisco's zipper so he can palm Cisco hotly over his jeans.

Cisco pushes his hips into Harry's touch. “Oh my God, deal. Deal, deal, deal.”

“If you can't, you have to suck me until we get to Starling City.”

Harry unzips Cisco, working him out of his jeans. He bucks into Harry's hand and Harry can't help but laugh. Cisco's not even trying to win. He's just giving in, giving up, giving himself over to Harry's knifed hunger. This is by far some of the best money Harry's ever spent.

“Push up your shirt.”

“Push up yours,” Cisco pants.

Harry's come to think it's just in Cisco's DNA to be contrary. Cisco does listen, shimmying his shirt past his chest, exposing his soft, flat stomach and already peaked nipples.

Harry leans in, just breathing in Cisco's need. It's intoxicating, now that Harry knows it's chemical and raw, knows Cisco isn't playing any game. This is just what Harry's touch hauls out of him. It would be heated regardless of Cisco's profession.

He blows across Cisco's chest. Cisco makes a noise Mardon is sure to hear but Harry can't care about that when he teases his thumb over Cisco's already leaking cock.

He wraps his hand around Cisco, firm and sure. There's something more than thrilling about knowing exactly how to get Cisco off. How much pressure to apply, how fast to stroke him, how much teeth he likes scraping across his nipples.

Harry sucks at Cisco's chest, flicking the tip of his tongue fast and hard. He pumps just the way he knows gets Cisco close. They stay like that for minutes, getting closer to time. Harry decides it's time to up the ante.

Making sure his lips moves directly against the shell of Cisco's ear, he whispers, “Come on, Cisco. Let go for me.”

“Uh-uh,” Cisco pants, fucking into Harry's fist. “Not gonna - h-happen, oh.”

Harry bites Cisco's nipple and twists his hand before taking it away. He stops for just a second, reveling in Cisco's distressed whine, waiting until Cisco looks at him to spit in his hand. Cisco shudders.

“You're always cheating. I hate you.”

Harry just smiles and gets his wet hand around Cisco. The glare Cisco donned shakes apart almost immediately. Harry jerks him with just the speed and grip he knows Cisco likes. A messy groan falls from Cisco's throat. 

Part of him thinks about taking his time, actually letting Cisco win their little bet, because the thought of getting on his knees and taking Cisco to the edge with his mouth only to hold him there, keep him there, and fill his own throat with the taste of all that silk, is tempting. Harry’s face flushes at the thought of it.

But the most insistent part of Harry, the one that makes him twist his grip so Cisco cries out, wants to make Cisco make an absolute mess of himself then bury himself in Cisco’s heat.

“Come for me," Harry tells him again.

“Make me," Cisco challenges.

Harry does.

He speeds his hand and with some maneuvering gets his other curled into Cisco’s hair. His nails scrape shivers into Cisco’s scalp. Cisco isn’t quiet when he comes. He never is. Mardon must hear him.

If Harry had any doubts, they’re availed when Mardon’s voice comes over the intercom. It’s shaking.

Cisco doesn’t actually hold up his end of the deal. He gets on his knees all right but he doesn't hold Harry hot in his mouth through the trip. Instead pulls out every trick he's learned about Harry's body and plays them just as ruthlessly as Harry had.

He flutters his cheeks, uses his hands, glances up at Harry with all the innocence of an angel all the while groaning pretty around Harry's dick. Once he gets Harry off, he hops back into his seat with a self-satisfied smile and finishes off the strawberries.

It's as good as Harry is going to get, really. It's good, in general. Harry counts it as a win. 

-

The gala is flooded with the same faces as it is every year. All of the music and signage and speeches are recycled. For a fundraiser to support scientific innovation, it's incredibly lackluster. The only thing new is Cisco.

“I feel like everyone's staring at me,” Cisco says, smoothing his hair for the hundredth time. “I know I look good in Armani, but damn.”

Cisco does look good in Armani. The tux is tailored and surprisingly tasteful, dipping in with the curve of Cisco's waist and following the swell of his thighs. His hair is down and combed to the sides, curls shiny with gel.

Harry offered to reimburse him for the suit, assuming he bought it for the gala, but Cisco said it was an early present to himself for being the best man in his brother’s wedding. For the first time Harry wonders how much he's actually paying Cisco for this experience. He decides it doesn't really matter.

“I think people might be more surprised that you're on my arm than by how handsome you look.”

“You think I look handsome?”

Harry looks over the sea of faces watching them.

“No,” he says and threads their arms together. When Cisco raises an eyebrow, Harry raises his back. “You are my date, Ramon.”

“What a gentleman,” Cisco says, oddly sincere. “Are we gonna dance?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But I got moves I need to practice for Dante’s wedding. I want to have a better dance with the bride than he does.”

“That's surprisingly petty of you.”

They walk through the party, Cisco following Harry's lead for once. Cisco reaches for two flutes of champagne as a waiter walks by. He hands one to Harry wordlessly.

“It's only fair. She totally had a crush on me when we were in middle school, until he told her I was becoming a priest.”

Harry chuckles. “Kind of took the exact opposite approach, huh?”

They finally reach the bar. Harry leans them both against the counter, scouting the crowd.

“You got a mark for me?”

Harry rolls his eyes at the word mark but settles in to point out the important players anyway. “There are only a few people worth talking to at this thing. Over there, in the navy, is Hartley Rathaway.”

“Wow. Talk about a severe case of resting dick face.”

Harry bites back a smile. “He’s the heir and, for all intents and purposes, acting head of Rathaway Industries. He’s been putting the company in the black with his tech apps.”

Cisco tilts his head. “He has the apps and STAR has the tech. You want to partner with him?”

“I _want_ to take over his company. I’d _settle_ for the rights to his apps.”

“You’re so hostile.” Cisco catches the eye of a waiter who has a full platter. When Cisco waves him down, he pops something steaming in his mouth and makes an orgasmic noise that makes the waiter shift in his shoes and Harry's cheeks heat. “This is Heaven. Harry, you have to try this.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Your loss,” Cisco says and eats the hors d'oeuvres he picked for Harry for himself. He fishes out his wallet and a bill Harry can’t quite make out in the shadowed lobby. Whatever it is, the waiter does a double take when he accepts it. “Keep the shrimp coming my dude.”

“Yes sir," the waiter says, smiling like Cisco just paid off his student loans.

“How much did you tip him?”

Cisco shrugs around another sip of champagne. “So Hartley. Target locked and loaded. What’s my angle?”

“Angle?”

Harry realizes their arms are still hooked together. He untangles them and considers what exactly he should do with his hands. After a few uneasy moments, he presses closer to Cisco’s side, settling his palm on the small of Cisco’s back.

Cisco straightens into his touch. “I mean, you’re not just going to straight up say, STAR wants the rights to your multi million dollar tech apps. Should I ask him to dance? I’m kind of getting a gay vibe from him.”

“You get a gay vibe from everyone.”

“Because everyone’s gay,” Cisco says. He takes another drink. “Also he keeps staring at that waiter’s ass.”

“Just leave the angling to me, Ramon.”

“But I thought that’s why I was here? You loom and look vaguely threatening while I give your science peers the ol’ Ramon razzle dazzle.”

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose. “Please keep the razzle dazzle to yourself. If anyone comes over here, I’ll do the talking.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’ll go well.”

Cisco eats six more shrimp while Harry runs through the key players. He pauses between bites to make unnecessary commentary. Harry keeps back inappropriate grins with every quip.

“We should go mingle with them. There's networking to be done on the dance floor.”

Cisco downs the rest of his drink then steps in front of Harry, hand outstretched. Harry isn't going to take it on principle, but Cisco pokes at him and smiles, no guile, all charm. Harry's chest feels tight where Cisco presses at it.

“Come on, Harry. You can't be that bad. I'll lead.”

The low, welcoming tone of Cisco's voice almost lulls Harry in. He almost puts his hand in Cisco’s hand, almost lets himself be led to the floor, almost lets Cisco guide him.

Then Oliver Queen steps up to the bar.

He orders a drink and Cisco presses himself to Harry’s side, momentarily dropping the pressure to get Harry to dance and instead nudging him towards Oliver.

“Network,” Cisco whispers in his ear.

Oliver shifts as he waits for his drink, noticing them for the first time. “Dr. Wells,” he greets. “I'm so glad you could make it.”

“Of course.” That's all he's planning to say until Cisco nudges him again. “I wouldn't have missed this wonderful event for anything. Everything is. Wonderful.”

“Of course,” Oliver repeats, blinking. “Who is this?”

“Francisco Ramon,” Cisco introduces himself. Harry watches Cisco extend his hand. “But you can call me Cisco. Harry was generous enough to let me tag along tonight. He knows how much the Hearts and Minds Charity means to me and it's honestly an honor to be here.”

Harry nudges him this time, trying to alert him to stop laying it on so thick. But Oliver’s face twitches into something like a smile.

“Would you believe you're the first person who's actually mentioned the charity to me tonight?”

“I absolutely would,” Cisco says cheerfully. “But I'm guessing most of your other guests didn't get their first laptop courtesy of this charity. They probably also didn't rebuild it into the dopest gaming system on the block.”

“Probably not.” Oliver seems to relax, somehow, and the smile that unfurls is genuine. “It's good to hear that the program actually helps people. It's good to see it. What are you doing now? Do you work with Dr. Wells?”

“He's my date,” Harry bites out.

“Well.” Oliver nods. “I suppose our programs can't guide youth away from all poor decisions.”

“Oh snap, that's some shade.” Cisco presses closer to Harry, rubbing his palm along Harry's back, as if he's trying to soothe Harry for real. It's unnecessary, but Harry doesn't push the touch away. “He's a surprisingly good date. A total gentleman. And he cleans up nice, don't you think?” Cisco tweaks his bow tie.

A blonde in a form fitting red number flutters into their circle, buzzing Oliver’s name hummingbird quick. She halts completely when she sees Harry. Her eyes go wide and wet and Harry vaguely remembers yelling at her before.

“Dr. Wells. You're here. That's not good. Expected, I mean. Of course it's good. It's very good to see you. I just didn't expect to see you, and I didn't do my affirmations in the mirror this morning because I wasn't expecting you. But that's fine. And look, you brought a boy. A man.”

“A date,” Cisco says, saving her and everyone else in the circle. “Cisco Ramon. You're Felicity Smoak, right?”

“Yes? I mean, yes. How did you - ”

“You invented the super virus then thwarted it from being used for evil. It was iconic. Plus,” Cisco smiles and rests his head against Harry's shoulder, just for a moment. “The big guy here told me you're one of the most brilliant people he's ever met.”

Harry frowns. She's not going to buy that. Harry isn't even sure what she _does_ here.

“That seems unlikely,” she says, but she's grinning and flushed. She shoots a look to Oliver who nods.

“But it's still true. I'd love to talk totally legal computer stuff with you while these guys talk business. Care to dance?”

Felicity glances at Oliver before she takes Cisco's hand. Cisco winks at him before leading her to the floor. Harry isn't sure what just happened.

“I like him.”

Harry turns. “So do I.”

Oliver surveys him, sizing him up, but it's different from their previous appraisals of one another's strengths and weaknesses. Harry stands straighter.

“You can tell a lot about a person by who they choose to be with. And who chooses to be with them.”

Harry glances at the floor to see Cisco spin Felicity in his arms. He doesn’t have to wonder what the cut of Cisco’s suit or the exuberance of his smile on the dance floor is broadcasting about him. The looks directed at Harry since he entered the gala with Cisco have intensified, but they’re tinged with something friendlier now, something more like curiosity than pity or disinterest. Cisco looks over Felicity’s shoulder as he leads her into a bright laugh. He’s already smiling but it deepens when he meets Harry’s eyes.

When Harry looks back, Oliver is watching them with a meaning Harry doesn’t care enough to decipher in the crinkles of his eyes.

“And who they choose to do business with,” Harry adds.

“Yes,” Oliver says, still watching Cisco and Felicity dance. “How long do you two plan to be in town?”

“We were planning to stay a few days,” Harry says. He considers leaving it at that, but he thinks of Tess, of Jesse, of Cisco. What they would tell him to say, to do. Make a connection. “I wanted to show Cisco the city. He’s never been to the Science and Technologies Center.”

Oliver finally meets his gaze. “Did he ask to see it or did you offer?”

Harry doesn’t know what the difference is. He certainly doesn’t think it’s any of Oliver’s business. Cisco would tell Harry to just answer the question.

“I offered.” Harry didn’t. He told Cisco they were going because he knew Cisco would enjoy it, and Cisco told him he was a bossy bitch and straddled him on the hotel bed.

Oliver accepts the answer. “He’s good for you,” Oliver says. “You should bring him by tomorrow afternoon. I’m sure Felicity would love to give him a tour. We can talk business.”

-

For the rest of the evening, Harry and Cisco develop a pattern. They come together, linking arms or anchoring themselves with palms pressed to backs, and Cisco feeds whatever gossip he’s gathered on the dance floor into Harry’s ear until someone new demands Harry introduce them to his charming young man.

It gets old, honestly, but if Cisco is as annoyed by the same inane questions as Harry is, he doesn’t show it. He just smiles and says something obnoxiously endearing, drawing attention and shoulder touches that make Harry’s spine curve.

When the party is winding down, Harry is caught in conversation with Simon Stagg, and realizes Cisco hasn’t boomeranged back to him in several minutes. He overlooks Stagg’s current story, which is doing more to prove that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about than convince Harry they should collaborate, trying to spot the rose soft of Cisco’s curls on the floor or by the bar.

He doesn’t see Cisco anywhere.

“Excuse me,” Harry says. "I seem to have misplaced my date."

"Ah, well. You better find him. Don't want someone else here snatching him up."

Harry spots the waiter who’s been following Cisco with silver trays of champagne and pastry puffs all evening. If anyone knows where his date has wandered off to, it’s the guy Cisco paid to keep him plied with appetizers.

Harry doesn’t even have to strike a conversation with the waiter; he just hangs back in a pocket of shadows until the man heads away from the main party, then follows him down a hallway that opens into a lobby walled by offices. Cisco is there.

So is Hartley Rathaway.

“You’re a good man,” Cisco is telling the waiter, rewarding him for finding Cisco with a genuinely happy crinkle of eyes and what looks like a crisp $20.

“Just so you know,” the waiter says, leaning in. “I think your date was looking for you.”

“Thanks for the heads up, dude.”

The waiter leaves the tray of food and Cisco places it on a little table between the chair Hartley is occupying and the one Cisco must have just been sitting in. Harry waits with his back pressed against the wall. The waiter halts briefly when he passes Harry, but at Harry’s glare, he hurries back to the party.

“You should get back to Dr. Wells. I’ve never seen him in a good mood, and I can’t imagine he’d be happy to find you with me.” Hartley looks annoyed himself, watching Cisco through a side eye.

“He’s networking,” Cisco says casually. “And you seemed like you could use some company.”

“Not your kind of company.”

Cisco sighs and takes a seat. “Well maybe I just wanted to come sulk instead of hang out at the awesome fancy party too.”

“I’m not sulking.” Hartley crosses his arms over his chest. He’s vibrating with young rage, doe clumsy and impotent. It’s his default, from what Harry can tell. “Did you give that waiter a $20 just for bringing you shrimp, or are you going to be meeting him in the bathroom later?”

Harry bristles at the sneer in his voice, but Cisco doesn’t. “You’ve never worked in the service industry, have you? That bill is just to make up for all the people who aren’t going to tip him.”

“How very altruistic of you,” Hartley spits. “I’m not falling for whatever game you and Dr. Wells are playing, by the way. You may have fooled the majority of drones in that room, but I can smell a fake a mile away.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Hartley rolls his eyes. “You butter them up with your working class charm then send them back to Dr. Wells. That won’t work with me. I don’t find you charming.”

“Ah, come on. You find me a little charming,” Cisco says, unphased, still eating. “You have to at least think I’m cute.”

That strikes a real chord of anger. Hartley vibrates into a straight line and curls his hands into fists. “I don’t know what you’re playing at - ”

“Dude, chill. I’m just kidding. I didn’t realize you weren’t - I mean, you weren’t exactly subtle in there - ”

Hartley pops to his feet. He looms storm like over Cisco and Harry is moving without realizing it, ready to wedge himself between Cisco’s soft body and Hartley’s thunder rage.

But Cisco stands too, holding his ground. His hands are spread non-threateningly.

“What’s your game? You try to get something out of me then bring it back to your sugar daddy? Blackmail me?”

“Woah. First of all. Harry’s not my sugar daddy - ”

Hartley scoffs. “I find it hard to believe he’s with you because of your intellect. Or that you’d be with him if he wasn’t paying you somehow.”

And that hits Harry like a tidal wave of ice. The truth of it stirs something vicious in his gut, raises his defenses and his rage. 

It triggers Cisco’s anger, too, something Harry wasn’t even sure existed. Cisco looms closer, not touching Hartley, but shaking with enough force that Hartley takes a step back.

“I don’t know what your damage is, Richie Rich, but when someone else is trying to show you some basic human decency, your default reaction shouldn’t be to insult them.”

“What decency?” Hartley sneers, crowding back into Cisco’s space. “You were here to work me like you’ve been working everyone else in that room. Is that what he hired you for?”

Hartley looks a split second from exploding into violence. Cisco must feel it, electric, and he sidesteps his way from the confrontation with a deep breath. He starts to walk away but pauses, turning, and Harry can’t see his face.

“You really want to know why I came to find you? Because I actually, idiotically, felt sorry for you. I saw you staring at that waiter the same way I used to stare at the jocks at my middle school dances. I thought I could offer some advice or support or - whatever. But never mind. You’re not tortured. You’re just a dick.”

Hartley’s nostrils flare. “You don’t know anything about me or my life. You think I’m rich so I don’t have problems?”

“Oh no, you clearly have problems. But newsflash, asshole. Everyone else does too.”

Cisco turns back on his heel and blows through the hall. Harry isn’t even sure Cisco’s seen him until Cisco pauses and says, quietly, “I’m ready whenever you are, Harry.”

Harry follows him back towards the lobby. Before they re-enter the party, Harry reaches for Cisco’s arm, keeping his touch as gentle as possible to halt him.

“What was that?” Harry asks.

Cisco bites his lip. He won’t meet Harry’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I fucked up. I just wanted to - ugh. I guess you really won’t be doing any business with him now. I’m sorry.”

Harry strokes his palms over Cisco’s biceps, feeling the need to do something with his hands. Cisco seems to calm under the touch. Harry keeps stroking, trying to build on that ease, to anchor Cisco back into peace.

“It’s fine,” Harry says, automatically reassuring even though he witnessed a disaster that he’ll have to work circles around to repair.

Cisco finally looks at him. “He just pissed me off. I thought I could like - God, I don’t know. He reminded me of me. I thought I should try. How can someone I just met piss me off so much.”

Harry realizes it isn't just anger, though. Cisco is genuinely upset by his perceived failure. Whatever he was trying to do for Harry, for Hartley, didn't work, and Cisco is blaming himself. Something soft pulses in Harry’s chest. He takes Cisco’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting Cisco’s head. He holds Cisco’s gaze for a long moment before bending his neck.

Harry presses a firm, open kiss to Cisco’s parted lips. Cisco seems a little too startled to really kiss him back, so Harry enjoys the butter soft of Cisco’s mouth for a breath then pulls away.

“You’re not mad?” Cisco asks.

“It’s fine,” Harry repeats. “You were right. Rathaway is a dick. I have other deals on the horizon, anyway.”

“At least I didn’t screw everything up tonight.”

“Stop.” Harry grips Cisco’s shoulder and wants to shake him. He’s never seen Cisco like this before - stripped of his sarcasm and confidence, he looks suddenly fragile, and Harry isn’t sure how to touch him, how to coax him back into that stronger place. He needs to, though. He wants to.“Don’t be - whatever you’re being right now.”

Cisco laughs. It’s small but thankfully genuine. “Oh well, I don’t feel bad now that you told me not to feel bad anymore.”

“Good.”

Harry kisses him again. This time, Cisco kisses him back.

“Let’s get out of here,” Harry says.

“I promised Felicity I’d get her number before I left. Did you know they don’t use copper wiring in their labs here?”

“You’ll see her tomorrow.” Cisco frowns. “You have a tour of Queen Consolidated with her while I meet with Queen.”

“Oh,” Cisco says, settling back into his familiar brightness. “Bitchin’.”

-

At the hotel room, Cisco is still a little on edge. Harry hovers, unsure how to calm or comfort. Cisco doesn’t seek anything from him, not even touch, but Harry wants to give it. They’re undressing in uncomfortable silence, Cisco working at the buttons of his dress shirt as he sits on the edge of the bed, Harry pulling his belt through the loops. 

“I was a waiter once,” he says. It's an effort to fill the void, to get Cisco to smile again.

Cisco looks up from where he’s just finishing undoing his shirt. There’s curiosity bright in his face. “What the what? When?”

“Ages fourteen to sixteen. Only during the summer. It was at my family’s country club.”

“Of course it was,” Cisco says.

“My father thought I needed some work experience. He thought it would give me character.”

“A lack of character is never something I would accuse you of.”

Harry shrugs his overshirt off and steps out of his shoes. “He thought I had attitude. Work tempers attitude. Makes a boy a man.”

Cisco rises from the bed. At this point, he’s in a thin white tank and trousers. Something about the look makes Harry’s skin tight. He stands still while Cisco approaches him, eyes appraising.

“I can’t picture it,” he says, finally. “You being a teenager or working as a waiter. Was there a lot of _Dirty Dancing_ esque drama going down?”

“I didn’t know anyone else well enough to be privy to _Dirty Dancing_ esque drama.”

Cisco rests his hands on Harry’s belly. He trails his knuckles up and down Harry’s body, idly coaxing goosebumps and desire over Harry’s skin. After a few moments he transfers his fingers to Harry’s bare arms.

“I would’ve figured if you had any coming of age jobs it’d be as, like, an accountant or something. A lab assistant.”

Harry brushes his own fingers low over Cisco’s shirt, trailing along the waistband of Cisco’s pants. Cisco sways closer.

“My father was the VP of Finances at another man’s company,” Harry tells him, his past spilling out in fuzzy, casual color. “My mother was a Physics Professor but her work was too... It's not important. But I didn’t spend a lot of time at either of their places of work.”

“They sound...nice?”

“They weren’t really,” Harry says simply. “But they weren’t cruel. They were just busy.”

Wrinkles rippled over Cisco's face. “They must be proud of you, though. And proud of Jesse.”

Harry feels light at the mention of her name. His hands follow the curve of Cisco’s waist, soaking in the warmth of Cisco’s champagne skin.

“They passed away before I finished grad school.”

“Oh.” Cisco’s touch slides down to his wrists and his thumbs rub over Harry’s pulse. His hands and voice are gentle, comforting, genuine. “I’m sorry, Harry.” It's clear he means it. He hurts for Harry's hurt.

Harry tries to sooth it. “Don’t be. I’m alright.”

“Still.”

Harry moves his strokes to Cisco’s cheeks. “Let’s not talk about this right now, okay? I’m already in the depths of a social hangover.”

The smile Cisco flashes him is fond. “And I think I’m hovering on the edge of a hangover hangover. I’m getting too old to party all night with socialites and science royalty.”

Cisco rises on his tiptoes to kiss Harry. It’s wet and deep but short, no promise of more. Harry finds he doesn’t mind.

“Do you regret bringing me yet?”

“Of course not,” Harry says. He runs his fingers over Cisco’s neck. “As much as it pains me, Jesse may have been right. It was...helpful, to have someone else with me. To have you.”

Cisco rests his forehead against Harry’s shoulder. His lips move half over Harry’s skin, half over his shirt.

“I really am sorry about Hartley. I just.” Cisco fingers tighten over Harry’s sides. “When he said that, about you, I lost it.”

“You didn’t have to defend me,” Harry says into Cisco’s hair. “He didn’t say anything that wasn’t mostly true, anyway."

Cisco wouldn’t have come with him tonight if Harry hadn’t been paying him, although Harry would’ve asked him. But it wasn’t just his brain or his shine that Harry wanted. It was - it is -

Cisco stiffens in his arms. Harry ignores it, kissing the top of his head. “Let's go to bed.”

“Yeah,” Cisco says, not moving. “Would it be okay if we just slept tonight? I’m kind of full of shrimp and alcohol. I don’t think there’s any more room for you.”

“I appreciate that you think it’s even a question,” Harry says. He’s exhausted to the bones.

They change into pajamas and crawl into bed. Theoretically, Harry had been prepared to share a bed with Cisco in this way. Having Cisco curl kittenlike around him, head buried in the crook of his neck, arm solid around his middle, is different in reality than in theory. Cisco is like a furnace of softness and sweet smells.

It’s been years since Harry just slept with another person. Even after Tess died, Jesse would sneak into his room and settle next to him after a nightmare. But that hasn't happened since she hit double digits.

Cisco must notice his stiffness. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Did you want to be the little spoon? I’m versatile.”

“I’m just a little out of practice with this,” Harry admits.

Cisco snuggles impossibly closer. “You’re doing great, big guy.”

Harry falls asleep to the sound of Cisco’s breathing.

-

Harry wakes to the sound of running water.

The hotel room comes into bleary half view. One of Harry’s eyes is stuck closed and he has to physically pry it open. He blinks the room into focus.

There’s a rolling cart with trays and glasses of orange juice pushed near the little table. Harry can see the bathroom door is open and realizes the water is the sound of the Jacuzzi tub being filled. Cisco is nowhere in his vision but Harry can hear his voice, honeyed and smooth, singing something Harry can’t place. He’s in the bathroom.

Harry scrubs his hands over his eyes and forces himself to sit up. The clock tells him it’s 12:13 PM. His meeting with Queen is at 2:00 PM.

“Good morning sleeping beauty,” Cisco says.

His hair is adorably messy and he’s swaddled in a fluffy bathrobe. There’s a hint of purple under his eyes, but otherwise he looks as cheerful as the dawn and just as pretty. Harry buries his face into the pillows.  

Cisco hops on the bed. “I ordered breakfast. Fruit, bagels, orange juice, and all the coffee. I figured we could eat light before your meeting then go have something celebratory and unhealthy after.”

“Fuck off,” is all Harry manages to say.

“I also figured we could eat in the jacuzzi, because that seemed awesome.” Cisco pokes at his cheeks. “Harry? Ha-rry. Time to wake up. You have businesses to take over. A world to rule. A cute boy to make out with while we’re both naked and wet.”

Harry groans and flops over to his back. “How are you not a zombie. You drank twice as much as I did and I feel like my head is made of pain.”

Cisco pats his head sympathetically. “Anti-hangover pills I whipped up at Mercury. I have more. But you have to eat something first.”

With effort Harry sits up again. Cisco fixes him a cup of coffee and a bagel before going back to check on the tub. Harry drinks and eats and stares into a void where only headaches and caffeine exist.

Somehow he finishes most of his breakfast. Cisco presses some pills into his hand and Harry takes them without a thought, then he lets Cisco drag him into the bathroom.

“Brush your teeth,” Cisco tells him, sitting on the edge of the tub to test the water. “No kissing with stank morning breath.”

Harry grunts but does it. Awareness is starting to come back to him. He recognizes his shape in the mirror, remembers what day it is, and blinks past the fading throb in his head.

“Are you ready for your meeting?”

“Of course,” Harry says. He doesn’t tell Cisco he’s been trying to work out a deal with Queen Consolidated for the past year. He could run through his presentation in his sleep. Luckily.

Cisco turns off the water as Harry turns around, leaning against the bathroom cabinet. He watches Cisco stand and untie his robe, let it fall off his shoulders and pool at his feet. Harry suddenly feels like it’s been years since he’s seen Cisco naked. A completely different ache throbs through him.

A smile that’s far too innocent plays on Cisco’s lips. He’s half hard already, either from sleep or anticipation, and he turns to let Harry’s greedy eyes rake over the graceful curve of his spine and back and thighs before stepping into the tub. A positively obscene noise falls out of his lips as he settles.

“Come on in, Harry. The water’s fine.”

Harry undresses with little preamble. He suddenly feels much, much more awake.

There’s a plate with grapes, an unpeeled orange, and strawberries on the tub platform, along with two glasses of juice.

“You know you don’t have to seduce me, right?” Harry asks as he climbs in.

“You ordered the boyfriend experience,” Cisco says and reaches for a grape. He holds it up to Harry’s lips and Harry takes it, making sure to brush his tongue over Cisco’s fingertips. Cisco’s own lips part at the touch. “And I’m a really, really good boyfriend.”

“I can see that.”

Where he expects Cisco to grin, Cisco bites his lip.

“Actually, I’m not. Good, I mean.”

Harry frowns. “Is this still about Rathaway? You have to let that go, Ramon.”

Before Cisco can say anything, Harry maneuvers until he’s got Cisco’s legs pulled over his lap, Cisco pressed close to his side.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop. I have to get ready for my meeting and you have to get ready for your day of nerdy adventures with Smote.”

“ _Smoak_ ,” Cisco corrects.

“We don’t have time for your angst, okay?” Cisco frowns until Harry pinches his thigh.

“Okay, okay. Damn.”

“Good,” Harry says, settling his palm over Cisco’s hip. Cisco licks his lips. “Now give me another grape.”

Cisco rolls his eyes but does as Harry asks, which is a thrill all in its own. He keeps supplying Harry with fruit, and although Harry suspects it has more to do with Harry sucking Cisco’s fingers into his mouth with each new bite than with a sudden willingness to do what Harry wants, Harry takes it.

By the time the grapes are nearly gone, they’re both flushed with the heat of the water and touch. Cisco grabs one of the last ones but instead of feeding it to Harry he grabs Harry’s hand and presses it into his fingers.

“I’m hungry too.”

Harry narrows his eyes on Cisco’s mouth. He brings the fruit to Cisco’s lips and Cisco doesn’t even pretend to be interested, tongue swiping Harry’s fingertips before he sucks them into his mouth. Harry’s eyes flutter closed.

“Fuck, Ramon.” Cisco releases his fingers to rub his cheek against Harry’s palm, drop kisses on his wrist. “Cisco.”

“I was gonna hold off and make this part of our celebration,” Cisco pants. He reaches around again and instead of returning with strawberries or whipped cream, something Harry expects, there’s a condom between his fingers. “But maybe you deserve it before the meeting. Something to keep you motivated.”

“Did you,” Harry starts, but Cisco just grins. Harry groans. “How much earlier did you wake up than me?”

Harry has to half stand for Cisco to roll the condom on. It’s a little awkward and a lot ridiculous but when Harry finally sits down and Cisco gets his knees on either side of his middle, straddling him, it’s so worth it. Harry needs to feel Cisco inside out, needs to know if there’s any difference with Cisco soaked warm from the bath, and he works two fingers inside with ease.

Cisco kisses him fully for the first time this morning. He tastes like juice, clean and sweet. Harry tangles a hand into his damp hair and angles him closer. Although he wants to indulge in playing with Cisco for hours, they're on tight schedule. Harry works his fingers out and pinches Cisco's ass.

“Get on it, Ramon. We don’t have all day.”

“You're the one who has to take forever,” Cisco huffs. Harry is going to snap something back but then Cisco settles on his dick. All Harry can do is grip Cisco's hips and moan. 

Setting a rhythm is difficult. Harry can’t really thrust up or guide Cisco down. Mostly he sits and digs his hands into Cisco’s ass and lets Cisco drive.

It’s always good like this, but not being able to do more than _feel_ is a new experience. Cisco touches his chest, kisses him exactly where he likes to be kissed on the neck, rests their foreheads together. He can take Harry apart so easily.

Harry closes his eyes and presses his face into Cisco's shoulder, mouthing at Cisco’s wet skin, until Cisco starts moaning in earnest. Harry has to look at him then.

When he pulls back, using his grip on Cisco’s hair to angle Cisco’s face level with his own, Cisco’s eyes are open. He’s smiling.

Harry thought he’d seen all of the faces Cisco makes in pleasure. All of the slack jawed, smooth skinned, heated, obscene ways Cisco could twist when Harry touched him just right. But he’s never seen Cisco look at him like this before. Light and open and happy.

Harry closes his eyes again. He pulls Cisco closer, digging his fingers into Cisco’s lower back.

“Come on. Faster, Cisco. Get yourself there.”

Cisco groans and finds Harry’s hand, wrapping it around his cock. Harry holds him in a tight grip and lets Cisco’s own movements rock them together. Cisco curses then finds Harry’s mouth. They come so close together Harry isn’t even sure which of them crosses the finish line first.

When Cisco climbs off and settles into the water next to him, he leans his head back with a happy sigh. He’s still smiling.

-

“Did you have a nice vacation?” Lisa asks when Harry comes back into the labs Monday.

“It wasn't a vacation. It was a business trip.” He can't quite scowl at her, although he tries.

She follows him into his office. “Of course. I know when Lenny takes business trips he reserves rooms for two with a Jacuzzi tub.”

“Do you have messages for me?” He takes a seat at his desk and fires up his laptop.

“Whatever you did on your trip paid off. Oliver Queen’s secretary called. He's going to be in the city this week and wants to meet with you.”

His trip paid off indeed. He itches to text Cisco, but they're scheduled to meet for a run - then go wherever the night takes them, Cisco's words - the next evening. Harry can wait to tell him, see the smile that will brighten his face.

“You have a meeting with Dr. Snow for a GEOS update, then a call with Eiling. Dr. Snow offered to sit it on the call with you.”

“And you told her?”

“That wouldn't be necessary.” Harry’s mouth twitches, pleased. “Then the rest of your day is cleared to work with the accelerator team.”

Harry looks up. “I’d rather meet with them first. Re-schedule my other meetings.”

Lisa looks at him, considering. “Have you ever heard of eating the frog?”

“No? What?” Harry's attention, dropped to his laptop, is peaked by the question.

Lisa holds her ever present tablet to her chest. “It's the concept of doing what you want to do least first. Eat the frog then you get to eat - the cake, or something. I don't know. Lenny says it all the time.”

“Well if that's the way our illustrious mayor does business.” Lisa stares at him flatly. “Fine. Send Snow in.”

-

It takes the better part of the morning to listen to Snow’s concerns. The susceptibility serum is coming along but it's been a painful process for their subjects. Morale is suffering. His staff is exhausted. When she starts talking about Grodd, there is a wet crack in her eyes. Harry takes off his glasses.

“If we had more time. If we didn't have to push them - ”

“Your team or your test subjects?”

"Both."

Harry isn't going to lose this contract. Even with the possibility of a Queen Consolidated collaboration, STAR can't afford it. The accelerator and his legacy can't afford it. But the urgency that was pushing Harry to the point of desperation has eased. He supposes, for the sake of his staff, he can make a few allowances.

“What do you need?” Snow gaps at him for a moment. Harry takes the breath to elaborate. “Not what do you want and not what will soothe all your ethical concerns. What do you need to get the job done.”

She closes her mouth. Something firm Harry's never seen in her settles smooth as water. “The deadlines have to change. All of them.”

“Okay,” Harry agrees easily. He can do that. He has more leverage now and Eiling is easily confused by scientific terms.

“And you have to - I mean, we'd like you to be more involved. If you could even pretend you're interested in the project. That would go a long way.” 

His initial urge is to dismiss the request. He's not anyone's father or mentor. But he thinks of Cisco's bag of toys and his warm, small smile when he talks about Dr. McGee letting him play in the R&D lab. He wonders what kind of smile kisses Cisco's mouth when he talks about Harry. Or would, if Cisco could talk about Harry. If Harry wasn’t confidential.

“I can't fake interest. But I can make my progress checks in person. If you think that would make a difference.” 

“I do. I absolutely do.”

"Okay." Harry sighs and closes her folder. “I have a call with Eiling soon. Would you like to sit in?”

Snow looks around like there may be someone else in the room. When she realizes there isn't, she takes her folder with a smile. "Yes. I'd love to. Thank you."

-

The call is tedious. Harry spends most of it arguing for extensions, but in the end, he succeeds.

Snow thanks him again for being allowed to sit in. He promises to visit her team later in the week.

He does text Cisco, then.

_Someone thanked me at work today._

_omg i'm so proud_

_ur not just telling me bc u think i'm gonna sext u in congrats right?_  

_??????_

Harry didn't. He thought Cisco would send something ridiculous in his ridiculous text speak - _there's no time for capitalization and writing out full words, harry, no time!_ \- and Harry would have something warm to think back to during the day. Sexting was certainly not on his mind. Theoretically he understands the concept, but in his gut he doesn't get the appeal.

_i'm not sending nudes in the office harry what kind of hussy do you think i am_

That has Harry's heart beating a little faster, though. His response is mostly meant to tease. He doesn't think Cisco will do it - doesn't want him to, really. The idea is enough to dwell on. The text back is enough to give him his Cisco banter fix.

 _The kind of hussy who rewards his fake boyfriend for a hard day of work._  

_dude it's only 11 how hard could u have worked today_

_Very._

There's nothing from the other end of the phone. It doesn't matter. Harry can practically see the annoyance on Cisco's face. That’s more than satisfying.

When Lisa comes in a few minutes later with numbers from the week before, his phone buzzes and he doesn't think anything of answering it until Cisco's bare skin overtakes his screen and he chokes on air.

-

Harry meets with the team working on the particle accelerator and spends most of the rest of the day in the cortex, getting his hands around what he's been dreaming about for years. Building the thing that's been burning up his lungs and eating his sleep.

His phone keeps buzzing in his back pocket. 

The engineers keep glancing at him sideways, as if they're being subtle. Harry focuses on the snake coil of anticipation that writhes in his belly, the one not entirely corded to the project at hand.

At least 95% of his attention is on the work in front of him. The other sliver is buried deep in his pocket, embarrassingly thrilled at the two pictures he'd managed to drink in on the elevator ride down.

Cisco pulling his shirt to the side, exposing the shadow in his collarbone and a hint of his chest, his neck stretched like a dare. It should’ve looked ridiculous. It did look ridiculous. Harry’s seen him twisted into every obscene shape one person can be bent into. But Cisco’s always buttoned up in those silly shirts, closed off with those high neck tee’s. Harry felt a flush in his chest at how oddly exposed Cisco appeared in the photo. Vulnerable and just for Harry.

The next, picture, however, went straight to his gut. It was aimed lower, Cisco’s hip bone flushing above his bright, open jeans and the band of his fluorescent boxers. There was a tantalizing dip of darkness that Harry couldn’t decipher as shadow or happy trail. Harry’s tongue had swelled in his mouth.

He’s focused on the future in his hands, not what debauchery is unfolding as his phone beeps again. There’s heat in his veins but he can push it down, deep into his bones, and he savors the anticipation. There will be time to unfurl it all later.

-

That evening, at home, Harry slides into a tub of steaming water. The heat seeps into all of his aches. He lets his head fall back and sighs.

His mind flashes to the last time he was in the bath. Cisco’s tongue under his fingers, Cisco’s thighs thick and solid and trembling through the water, Cisco’s smile.

Cisco’s smile.

It was so simple and sweet and real. Different than all of the other truths, no matter how raw, between them. They want each other, they enjoy each other, bodies and mouths and intellect. That it’s an exchange of services makes it easier.

But that smile, and all of the smiles that came after it - bringing Cisco to Queen Consolidated, telling him the meeting went well, touring the S&T Center while Cisco tugged at his hand - wasn’t Cisco being overwhelmed by Harry’s touch or flattered by Harry’s intensity or satisfied by Harry’s attention. That was something like happiness. Like joy.

There are only two people Harry has brought that kind of light to. He’d learned to take pride in bringing Tess and Jesse the same joy they brought him. It was harder with Jesse, now, but anytime he can make her sparkle, his chest seizes with victory.

He didn’t think he’d be able to make anyone else happy the way he’d made them. That he’d find anyone else who could bring him the same thing.

His phone buzzes and he knows exactly who it is, what it is. He hesitates. Possessing Cisco’s body as honestly as he can is one thing. While Harry has made peace with wanting Cisco’s lust, wanting something like Cisco’s joy is far messier. Far more dangerous.

He picks up the phone.

_u home yet?_

He scrolls up through the rest of the messages, starting again with the first two pictures. The next shows Cisco’s jeans around his thighs, outline of his dick clear under his boxers. Harry’s stomach flips into his chest. He hadn’t allowed himself to really take in the pictures at work - it wasn’t going to do to work on the particle accelerator with a bulge in his pants - but now he sinks into the water and let’s Cisco wash over him.

The final picture is the worst. Cisco’s got a firm grip on himself, thumb resting on the flushed head of his dick. It’s not like Harry hasn’t _seen_ it, couldn’t recall the curve and silk of it from memory. But sitting in the tub, staring at it, his jaw aches like he’s never tasted it before.

Harry presses his fingers to his eyes in second hand embarrassment for Cisco and absolute shame for himself, for his own reaction.

There are a few texts after that message.

_told u i was a good boyfriend ;)_

_do u think i should start a modeling career?? i look fuckin fierce_

Harry’s only message is next, sent hastily during his elevator ride up from the cortex. _You’re ridiculous. You’re too old to be a model. You can’t send pictures like that to anyone. Or to me._

_w/e u loved them. text me when ur home and ill let you tell me how much_

Then there’s a series of blushing smiling faces blowing hearts that make Harry’s eyes unfocused. Harry’s never been so _flustered_ and it settles like uncomfortable lead, splintering through all of his joints. Embarrassing. The whole thing is embarrassing.

_I’m home._

Cisco buzzes back quickly. _whacha wearing?_

Harry rolls his eyes. _I’m in the bathtub._

_jfc i was not spiritually prepared for that_

_so now that you're not at work you can tell me what you really thought of my pics_

The thrill of the pictures sizzles into adrenaline, into deeper desire. Harry shifts in the water as his blood swirls.

_They were nice._

_nice??? those were primo nudes! i made sure there was good lighting and everything!!!_

A smile licks at Harry’s lips. His palm slides over his stomach and the simple touch strikes the match of his lust into a flame. 

_You looked good. Satisfied?_

_how good. good enough to eat? ;)_  

Harry thinks about that last picture and the way Cisco tastes on his tongue, the weight of his dick, the way he always squirms when Harry teases the head the way he was teasing it himself in that photo.

_Yes._

_good enough to suck?_

Christ. Harry has to touch himself, then, can’t help it. He keeps one hand tight and shaking around his phone while he curls the other around himself.

_Yes._

_that’s what i was thinking about. how you sucked me off on the plane ride back from starling city. ur so good at it harry. i think about it all the time_

Harry breathes out, shaky. _Are you thinking about it now?_

_no r u kidding i’m thinking about you jerking off in the tub. that’s what’s happening right?_

He considers lying. Texting back that he’s just enjoying the warmth and letting his muscles relax after a hard day of work.

_come on tell me what ur doing. i’m in my bed and i’m so hard christ i couldn’t even get my pants off. just pulled it out to jack off_

God dammit. Harry’s hand tightens around himself and he jerks into his own touch. His thumb slips over the phone. He wants to call Cisco, hear his voice and panting and all of the lovely desperation that overtakes him so easily, considering his line of work. He wants to tell Cisco to meet him at the hotel, _now_ , or even the track, anywhere. He needs to get his hands on Cisco’s hips, get his mouth on Cisco’s skin.

Sending these messages feels hollow, unsatisfying. He has no idea what he’s supposed to be getting out of this. He responds anyway because he doesn’t know what else to do.

_That’s what I’m doing._

_wow you're awful at this give me something to work with man i’m dying of sexual frustration over here_

Harry doesn’t know what to say or how to describe the pin pricks of want over his skin. He can hear Cisco whining for more, greedy brat. If he could just hear it for real, it would be so much better.

 _I’m touching myself. I’m thinking about the sounds you make when I tease you. How you beg for it._

_fuck yes, thinking about the same thing. when u just lick my dick and drive me fuckin crazy_

_i don’t beg tho_

Harry smiles into the next thrust. He considers how to word his next message, what will get Cisco close and messy. _You do. You say more, Harry, more. You’re so pretty when you say please._

_oh fuck, fuck u, i’m not pretty_

He isn’t sure where the next words come from. He thinks about Cisco being in the same room with him, about Cisco clawing at his hair and the bed sheets while Harry sucks him light and teasing. Cisco squirming between bitching and begging. 

_You are. And you’re prettiest when you’re desperate. Tell me how desperate you are._

Harry is already thinking about it, though. When he can coax Cisco's pleasure slowly to the surface then pin him to the edge of it, watch him flutter and shudder, hear him cry out. All of the ways Cisco curses his name.

_i'm dying ok i'm desperate for it. i can't get wet enough, not like your mouth, and i need it. u owe me the messiest head next time i don't care if there are 100 ppl at the track ur sucking me off_

And that's it, that's enough. It's never going to happen but the _thought_ of it, of pressing Cisco's panting body against the fence, sucking him past the point of begging, teasing him into a mess that the world can see but can't touch, is enough.

Harry pulls with too tight too much pressure on the last few strokes. He comes with Cisco's desperation echoing in his head.

_harry say something please. tell me what your doing or thinking or something_

Laziness has already unfurled in his bones. He dips his hand into the water to clean himself then runs it through his hair, drying it enough so he can hold his phone with both hands.

_I'm finished. Are you close?_

_yes what got u off, tell me, help me out_

Harry closes his eyes. He isn't sure how honest he should be. Even as Cisco's _boyfriend_ , he knows there are certain boundaries, certain things he can't have and shouldn't want.

But this is a game. In the context of a game, maybe this is okay.

_Thinking about sucking you at the track. Making you beg for me in front of everyone. How much they would all wish they were in my place. But I'm the only one who gets to touch you._

He holds his breath while he waits for Cisco to text back.

And waits.

And waits.

 _Cisco?_

_holy fuck dude that was so hot how did u come up with that?? nvm i don't need to know but that was 10/10 excellent sexting. a little rough at the beginning but u pulled thru_

Harry feels a ridiculous swell of pride. He imagines Cisco blissful and flushed in his bed, trying to come down, and wonders if Cisco is smiling that same gentle smile. That's a picture he'd like to see.

_Go to bed._

_i am in bed. i'm gonna sleep for like 10 hrs. thanks for the helping hand_

There are more winking heart kiss faces lighting up his screen. Harry stares at them longer than necessary, then goes to bed himself. 

- 

Harry doesn't actually blow Cisco at the track the next time they meet.

“You know I don't actually want you to blow me here,” Cisco says, hands around his ankle to pull his calf up in a stretch. It's distracting.

“I know.” Harry can't quite lift his gaze from the corded muscles Cisco's shorts reveal. “I wasn't actually planning on it." 

“Well that's good. Because otherwise this would be the most awkward run ever.”

Ever since Harry has embarked on the boyfriend experience, running with Cisco has become A Thing. They meet at least twice a week. Cisco's actually made some progress. They're going for distance, not speed, and he's up to two miles now.

It's rewarding, seeing Cisco get better, being the one to get him there. Harry always thinks of he and Jesse’s early morning runs, when she was still living at home and he would time her everyday. He actually told her that he's been going again, although he left out the fact that his new running partner was the escort he hired to act as his boyfriend.

They manage two and a half miles before Cisco starts whining. Harry tries to push him to finish the third full mile, but Cisco _pouts_ and Harry can't bring himself to pull him any further.

Cisco plops on the grass, legs stretched out in front of him. His thighs are spread, not obscenely wide, but Harry can't help a flash flood of images: all the times he's had that soft, solid flesh curled around his waist, his shoulders; all the times he's had his head buried between the heat, Cisco's fingers tugging at his hair; how easy it would be to sink down and mouth at Cisco over his thin shorts.

He's shaken from the assault when Cisco stretches back, leaning on one elbow, and pulls up his shirt. Cisco frowns at his belly.

“I still don't have abs.” He pokes his stomach and Harry clenches his teeth to keep from diving in, pressing his lips to the ticklish spot under Cisco's belly button. “Cindy said running would give me abs.”

Harry settles next to him, stretching out. “It takes more than a couple weeks to get abs, Ramon. And it's not like - ”

He cuts himself off, reaching for his water bottle.

Cisco tilts his head, watching Harry with the same amusement that always flutters whenever Harry fucks up and compliments him.

“It's not like what, Harry?” He looks away and Cisco jostles him. “Were you gonna tell me I'm beautiful just the way I am?”

“You don't. Not have abs.”

Cisco rubs his hand over his stomach and Harry's lust, that had calmed in their moments of stillness, comes thundering back to life.

“I mean. I have flatness. But no definition. I wanna be ripped for Dante’s wedding.”

“Have you ever been to a wedding? You're supposed to keep your shirt _on_.”

“Yeah, during the ceremony. But we're doing a whole - they want to get married on the beach, so we're staying at cabins and doing all this outdoorsy family shit before. And I've glowed up since the last time most of them saw me without a shirt on. I'm not skinny Francisco who spends all days with his toys anymore.” Cisco stops touching his belly - thank goodness - and picks at the grass. “But I still want abs.”

Harry tries to picture Cisco as a skinny nerd, being teased by his family and hiding with his inventions. He frowns at the thought. None of that suits him. Cisco should always be full, proud and shining and adored. Harry presses his own fingers into the ground. 

“Too bad you're not coming with me,” Cisco says. He takes a swig from his water bottle and grins. “If I can't show off my abs, I could at least show off my rich boyfriend’s abs. _That_ would make my cousins jealous.”

Cisco doesn't preface the boyfriend with _fake_ or anything else to denote the nature of their relationship. Harry doesn't call attention to it. 

“When is it?”

“The wedding?”

“The outdoorsy family shit.”

“Five weeks and counting. We’ll be there Sunday to Sunday. So I'll be kind of unavailable.”

Harry nods. Cisco is talking like Harry will still be paying for all the pleasures of his company at that time. Jesse will be home for the summer by then.

It occurs to Harry for the first time that he'll have to make a change when Jesse comes back. He won't lie to her, present Cisco as something he's not. Jesse would get attached. But he won't sneak around, either.

The only real solution would be to dissolve their agreement while Jesse's home. The thought rubs Harry raw from the inside. He rejects the idea like poison, spitting out the idea of months without Cisco's body and brightness.

“Harry?” 

“I'm starving after that run,” Harry says. He’ll make a decision later. “Let's go to the Grand.”

Cisco grins and slides his hand towards Harry's, pressing their fingertips together. “You thinking room service?”

Instead of answering Harry leans in, pressing a kiss to the corner of Cisco's mouth. He trails another to Cisco's chin then up, to the point of his strong jaw, to the sweat sweet if his throat. 

“Absolutely,” Harry says into Cisco's skin.

“Keep that up and I'm gonna forget I'm not actually an exhibitionist.” But Cisco tilts into his mouth, easy and eager.

Harry drops his forehead against Cisco's temple. It's Sunday and part of him is tempted to forgo the hotel altogether. He wants to be lazy with Cisco's body. Take Cisco in his open glass walled shower, in his unmade bed, on the floor in his work room. Sleep together again and wake up only to roll Cisco on his back and bring Cisco to the edge the way they'd texted about.

“You have to buy me the waffles,” Cisco is saying, rubbing against Harry's touch like a cat. “And suck me off.” 

Harry noses at Cisco's hair. “What are you going to do for me?” 

“Not a damn thing.” Cisco grins as dazzling as the sun and Harry has to squint against the combined brightness.

Harry is a second away from just pulling Cisco into his lap when his cell phone rings. 

“Please tell me you don't have to answer that.”

The name that glows on his phone is _Dr. Snow_. He groans. He knew he shouldn't have given her his number.

“Snow. This better be - ”

“It's Grodd. Something's wrong, Dr. Wells, and I don't know what but I don't know how much longer we'll be able to hold him.” 

“What's going on?” he asks but doesn't wait for an answer. “I'll be right there.” 

Harry pushes himself to his feet and starts digging for his keys. Snow sounded worried. Snow sounded _terrified_ and Harry can't imagine why - _hold him, she said hold him, they can't hold a fucking gorilla_ \- and he can't feel the cold metal of his keys.

“Harry? What's wrong?” Cisco is up and in Harry's space, all chocolate soft concern. “Is it Jesse?”

“No.” Thank God. “Work. I have to get to the labs right now but I - I can't find my god damn keys, I don't - ”

Cisco dips down and pulls Harry's keys from the ground, along with his water bottle. Harry blinks at him, dazed.

“Let's go.”

“What. Ramon.”

“You're shaking, dude.” Harry looks down at his hands and he is. “I'll drive you. Come on.”

Cisco takes Harry's hand and guides them to his car. Harry doesn't protest.

-

When Harry and Cisco skid into the lab that holds Grodd, Snow and Raymond are hiding behind a desk while Grodd rages in his plexiglass cage.

“Woah,” Cisco pants, stepping in front of Harry and spreading his arms. “You didn't tell me you were remaking _Plant of the Apes_ up in here.”

Harry stares dumbly at Grodd then even more dumbly at the wall Cisco has made with his body. He grips Cisco's shoulder and pulls him back, maneuvering until they're both pressed against a wall.

“What the actual fuck is happening.”

“I don't know,” Harry answers, jumping when Grodd bangs his fists against his enclosure. “Snow. Raymond. Would you like to fill us in?”

“We don't know,” Snow shouts back. “We just came into the lab and he was - like this. I think he's going to break out.”

“Definitely seems like a possibility,” Cisco says. He seems more than a little terrified and Harry notes that he's the one who's shaking now. The urge to comfort comes but is overtaken by the need to end the threat

“We need to tranquilize him,” Harry shouts. 

“If you want to go in there, be my guest!” Raymond shouts back. “I like having my head attached to my body though.”

“You guys don't have a tranq gun?” Cisco asks. 

“We’re scientists,” Harry explains.

“With a big ass gorilla in your lab. Don't you people watch movies? You need a tranq gun!” 

Grodd shoulder chucks the wall. There's a sick crack and Harry is pretty sure it's not the gorilla that's breaking. 

Harry's gaze darts wild and his brain kicks into overdrive. The fear and need to protect Cisco, Snow, and Raymond sharpen his breathing. Focus. 

He zeroes in on a can of air next to one of the computers. 

“Ramon. How long would it take you to build a gun we could load what we have in?” 

“I - shit. I don't know? I haven't built a gun since grad school.” 

“ _Ramon_.”

Cisco looks at him and it's all fear. Harry grinds his teeth. He shouldn't have brought Cisco here. No, he shouldn't have brought Grodd here, or the GEOS project, into his lab. 

“Never mind, just get out of here. You and Snow and Raymond need to get out.”

“Uh, no. We're not leaving you.”

“Cisco - ” 

“ _I'm_ not leaving you. Just. Give me a second.” 

Cisco closes his eyes and reaches for his hand, squeezing hard. Harry squeezes back.

Then Cisco is running. He scrambles around the lab, gathering material, and Harry watches him in awe before his legs finally come alive. There's enough in the lab, Harry is sure, and although he doesn't know _exactly_ what Cisco needs he gathers all the materials he thinks will be helpful and piles them on a work table. 

Cisco works quickly. His hands are still shaking but he's getting the job done. Harry hangs back, as much as it pains him, and let's Cisco work.

When Cisco finally snaps the tranquilizer into the makeshift gun, spider web cracks are spreading in the enclosure.

“Hand it over,” Harry says, reaching for the gun. 

“Do you even know how to use it?” 

Harry wrestles it away from Cisco with minimal effort.

“You need someone to open the door,” Snow says.

“I'll do it,” Cisco volunteers.

Harry feels something animal snarl in his chest. “ _No_. I want you out of this lab,  Ramon. Now. All of you.”

“Let me, okay? Cait, you and - and  whoever that is, you guys run. We got this.” Raymond doesn't wait for an answer. He runs to the enclosure and Harry follows behind him. 

Grodd runs towards them before they even open the door. Harry settles his weight and holds the gun with firm hands. He's ready, and when Raymond opens the door, he shoots. 

The gun works. So does the tranquilizer.

Raymond drops to his knees and Snow rushes to his side. Cisco rushes to Harry's, but instead of cradling Harry's face the way Snow pets Raymond's, Cisco curls a hand around his forearm. 

“That was simultaneously the scariest and hottest thing I've ever seen.” 

Harry looks down at the gun in his hands, then back at Cisco, who's watching him with eyes eaten away by black. 

“My hero,” Cisco breathes, fluttering his lashes. The color on his cheeks isn't a tease, though. 

“Should we call the rest of the team?” Snow is asking, voice distant. “So they can help us get him back in there?”

“Yes,” Harry says, eyes on Cisco's parted mouth. 

“...okay. I guess I can do that.”

-

Snow calls the team. Cisco calls for pizza - _we’re not going to the hotel, I'm starving, we just stopped a crazy gorilla, you're springing for Mama Ella's._

While they wait, Harry stands by Grodd, makeshift tranquilizer gun in hand. Cisco has already tried to make alterations to it but Harry has just batted him away. Aesthetics aren't important when there's a giant gorilla that could potentially rise from its drugged sleep and tear the world apart.

“You look so badass,” Cisco comments, chin on his hand. He's sitting at a workbench, alternating between messing with his phone, staring at Grodd, and shooting heated glances at Harry's hands, still curled around the gun.

Harry rolls his eyes, but tightens up his stance.

Raymond and Snow are looking over the last of Grodd’s vital readings.

“Anything?” Harry asks.

Snow glances at Cisco. “Is he cleared for us to share that information with?” 

“Oh, I'm not like - I was just tagging along with Harry. Pretend I'm not here.”

Raymond and Snow mouth ‘Harry’ at each other.

“Snow.”

“Not that I'm not grateful you helped save our lives, but who exactly are you are?” Raymond asks.

“I'm Cisco.” Cisco exchanges glances with Harry. Honestly, how Cisco is introduced to these people is one of Harry's least concerns. They lost control of Grodd. They lost control of the project. Snow and Raymond were in danger. Cisco was - Cisco could’ve been - 

“I’m Harry's. Uh. Boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Snow says. Her eyes are cartoon wide. “I - sorry, I didn't realize Dr. Wells liked. Well.”

“Men?” Cisco says.

“People,” Snow finishes. “Enough to date them, anyway. Sorry.” 

The rest of the team arrives. All eyes are curious on Cisco, but he doesn’t introduce himself as Harry’s boyfriend again. He does help them get Grodd on a gorilla gurney and back into his cage, then helps himself to Harry’s wallet to pay for the pizzas. 

By the end of the evening, Harry and Snow have determined the serum needs to be remade from scratch. They’ll start work on it first thing in the morning.

Harry almost offers to give Cisco a tour of the labs, but he’s drained. His eyes are burning from staring at lab equipment. His muscles still haven’t unwound from having hundreds of pounds of angry gorilla barrelling at him - _at Cisco._  He wants to sleep for the next three days.

He wants to wake up with Cisco curled into him, the way he did in Starling City.

Cisco drops him off at his car, still parked at the track. 

“Guess I’m not getting my blowjob?” Cisco asks.

It’s an attempt to ease the air between them and it works. Harry actually laughs, tired as it is, and rests his head against the rest.

Then there are fingers, warm and sturdy and comforting, gentle against his hair. He lets his eyes close into the easy touch. 

“If I asked you what you were really doing with Grodd, would you tell me?” 

Harry turns to him. Cisco’s eyes are shadowed points in the twilight. His fingers have traveled to the nape of Harry’s neck, stroking over the stretched too thin skin. He’s coaxing out the tension, sucking it out like snake venom. Harry’s shoulders start to soften.

“Genetic testing,” Harry offers. “It’s boring. You wouldn’t be interested.” 

“You’re shit at evasive maneuvers, Harry.” Cisco is smiling as he says it, though, and his nails drift over the first knob of Harry’s spine. 

 _Come home with me_ , Harry wants to say. _Sleep with me_.

He doesn’t care what it costs. 

Cisco kisses him goodnight. He goes home and wakes up alone. 

-

The week is spent pouring over a new formula for Eiling’s serum. It takes Harry away from the accelerator but he buries his frustration in Cisco’s honey skin.

On Thursday he manages to steal some times to sneak into the cortex. His team has made an almost acceptable amount of progress. One of the engineers asks if Cisco is going to visit again anytime soon, because she looked at the gun he made, and would love to talk to him about it. 

Harry glares but doesn’t yell and considers it personal progress.   

Snow asks about Cisco, too. How did they meet. How long have they been dating. Where does he work. 

Harry doesn’t fire her on the spot. More progress. Jesse and Cisco would be so proud. 

- 

Jesse flies down for the weekend. Harry doesn’t realize how much he’s _missed_ her until he has her in his arms for the first time in far too long.  

She gushes about all of her projects. Her running time and the new friends she's made. He hangs on every word. It's always different, hearing her stories when he can watch her hands move and see her lighting smile. 

Since she's only down for a long weekend, Harry tries to make the most out of their time. They run at the track every morning - Harry tells Cisco when they'll be there to avoid running into him - and he wonders what Jesse would think of Cisco's incessant bitching. What Cisco would think of Jesse's single minded determination. 

Harry takes her to see the progress on the particle accelerator. He pointedly skips the part of the tour that takes them through the lab where Snow is experimenting with the gorillas.

He remembers a time when it was easier to cling to the necessity of the project, a time before Lisa's silent judgement and Snow’s eyes during the conference calls with Eiling. Before Cisco rolling around in a hotel bed, telling him STAR should be making the world a better place. 

Harry pushes the uneasy almost shame away, locks it in a compartment with his other ethically debatable decisions. He shows Jesse the schematics and updates her on his deal with Queen Consolidated to collaborate on communication technology. For the first time in a long time, Jesse looks at him with a pride unmarred by pain. 

They eat lunch at the cafeteria. Harry hardly ever does. He remembers why when his tray is loaded with Meatless Monday mush. Cisco would probably accuse him of abusing his employees or something equally dramatic. Harry texts Lisa that he's taking Jesse to Jitters and that changing the cafeteria menu is a priority.

They're at Jitters before Lisa responds. She has a list of chefs and options sent in pictures. Harry tells her to do what she wants, don't raise the budget, don't talk to him about it. 

When he's done, Jesse is watching him. There's something fond in the way she rests her chin in her hands. 

“So you text now.” 

“...yes,” Harry answers, frowning. He’s always texted but he calls her to hear her voice. He’s more quick to shoot her a quick message now, he supposes. Since Cisco can't seem to communicate any other way. “It's efficient.” 

“It is,” she agrees, too easily. “Speaking of efficiency. Are you ever going to tell me who your date to the Hearts and Minds gala was?”

Harry opens his mouth. Closes it. He doesn't know why he's not prepared for this. He didn't think she would know - she wasn't there, it's not like any of her classmates were there, but he should've had a contingeny plan. He should've had seven, at a minimum. 

“That's. That has nothing to do with efficiency. I don't follow that segue.”

“It wasn't my best, okay. But I've been trying to bring it up all weekend and I couldn't find an entry point. So I made one.” 

Despite himself, Harry's warmed. His Jesse Quick.

“Now spill. The gossip among all the professors is that Dr. Harrison Ice Prince Wells showed up at the gala of the year with a _boy_.” 

Harry clenches his fist. Cisco was right. “Even nerds love drama,” Harry mutters without meaning too. 

Jesse laughs. The crystal clear of it will always be Harry's favorite sound. 

“You know that gala is for charity. Did you hear anything about how much was raised or how many people will benefit?” Harry has a sudden appreciation for Oliver's appreciation of Cisco's interest in the actual point if the evening. 

“I did hear your date made several generous donations to the bartender.” Jesse’s face sharpens, serious. “Dad. You're not… getting taking advantage of, are you? Everyone said he was younger. And very. Charming.”

Harry's never been _slow_ but it takes him longer than he'd like to admit to realize what she's implying.  

“I'm not his.” He refuses to say sugar daddy out loud. “He uses his own money to tip. I don't. That's not what it is.”

Except it is. Harry pays Cisco for his company; it's just an already negotiated price. The compensation is cash as opposed to… Harry doesn't know, cars or clothes. All Harry buys him in extra compensation is chocolate.

But Harry's just buying his time. Not his lust or affection. Cisco gives that freely.

“Oh. Well. That's good. The way people talked…” 

“You could've asked me.”

“It's harder to tell when you're lying over the phone.” 

“I don't lie,” Harry lies. He tries not to. Not to Jesse. She raises both eyebrows at him and he waves his hands. “Sometimes I might. Over dramatize.”

“That is certainly a way to describe the things you do,” she says. She's smiling again, though. “Why didn't you tell me about him?”

“It's not like. He's not. He just accompanied me after someone told me I'm terrible at peopling.”

Jesse laughs. “I don't think I said that.”

Cisco did. “And you heard right. He is charming. He's good at… connecting things. People.” 

“Do I get to meet him?”

“No,” Harry snaps, quick and crisp. 

“Why not? If he's your partner - ”

“He's not my partner. He's my - acquaintance. Who did me a favor. End of discussion." 

“Dad.” 

“There's nothing to talk about. Why are you so.” Harry tries to think of the right word and wishes Cisco were just _here_. “We have better things to talk about.” 

“Better than your life?” Jesse grabs his hand from across the table and squeezes three times. She learned that from Tess. “You realize I want that for you, right? I want you to have a life and be happy. And I want to be part of it.” 

“I have a life,” Harry says, squeezing back. “I have you. I have my work. I don't need anything else.” 

“It would be okay if you did, you know. And if you found that - ”

“I'm not talking about it anymore.”

Jesse sighs and withdraws her hand with a final grip. “Can you at least tell me his name?” Harry narrows his eyes. “You know people saw you making out.” 

“Oh my God.” Harry puts his face in his hands. That stupid kiss when Cisco was off kilter from Hartley. Harry’d been so caught up in comforting, in coaxing that unsureness into the steady brightness that Cisco should always wear, he hadn't thought about anyone seeing them.

“You would've locked me in a tower if I kissed a boy whose name you didn't know in front of the who's who of your peers.”

Helpless, Harry brings his hands to the table. “Cisco.” It feels too much like a lie and too much like the truth and it's only a name, but it's wrong to speak it to Jesse. To say it doesn't mean anything.

“Cisco?”

“Short for Francisco. But that makes him think of monks - ” _which he most certainly is not_ “ - and Frank makes him think of middle aged white guys with a beer gut. So. Cisco.”

Jesse nods but she looks unconvinced; Harry doesn't know what about. “Right. That sounds like the right amount of intimate knowledge you'd have for someone who did you a favor. Once.”

“Don't say intimate.” Jesse sticks her tongue out at him and the knot in his stomach eases. “Have you figured out what you want? We have to order at the counter.”

They walk to the counter together and Jesse squeezes his hand again. The cold little pit in his gut tendrils out again. He's lying to her. No matter what he says, he's lying. And as selfish as he knows he has been in his life, he's never been as selfish as he is right now.

He can have Cisco a lot of ways, as long as he's willing to pay for them, but he can't have a Cisco to share with Jesse. She would like him and she would believe it's all real when they hug and share pop culture references. Harry can see so easily them reclining on his couch, sharing chocolate and jokes.

Harry can't give that to her only to yank it away. 

“Dad? Are you ready to order?” 

Later. He'll untangle the Jesse and Cisco wires later.

- 

Harry has started making daily trips to the GEOS Project labs. The team is on edge, and he doesn't know if that's from Grodd or him. He tries not to frown when their spines go rigid. Jesse always told him it made him look scary; Cisco tells him it makes him look like his dad. 

He angles for neutrality when he visits Snow in the lab nearly a week after Grodd’s attack. He isn't sure if it's working, but Snow smiles when she sees him.

They go over the progress in her office. The simulations are steady, the serum is made, the team is on their toes. It's time to secure a new test subject.

“The subject will be delivered Monday morning,” Harry tells her.

She nods. “And Grodd?” 

Harry's had this conversation with Cisco. It ended with Cisco waxing about how much the beacon of STAR Labs shines for the people of Central City. How important it was for STAR to stand for innovation and not ethically ambiguous genetic experimentation. Harry didn't argue, didn't correct or confirm whatever Cisco was thinking.

“We can't release him,” she says.

“Obviously not.”

“Is it safe to keep him in the lab?” 

“It's not safe to hold him anywhere else. You said his aggression has been waning already without the injections. We should continue to observe him.” 

“And if he tries to attack again?”

 _Are you going to put him down,_  Snow is asking. _After we did this to him, do we put him down._

“We'll play it by ear. And we'll do what we have to do.” 

He touches her shoulder in what he hopes is reassurance. The move worked on Cisco when they had this conversation. All it seems to do to Snow is startle her.

His phone buzzes with a text but he ignores it. Keeps ignoring it until the ringer goes off.

“Excuse me.” He doesn't wait for her to speak before he's got his phone in hand, staring at Cisco's name on his screen.

Cisco never calls.

“Are you okay?” is the first thing he asks.

“Hello to you too, sunshine. I'm okay. Why? Are you okay?”

Harry finds a corner of the lab. “You never call. I thought something was wrong.”

“Oh. Sorry, I just - you weren't answering your texts as fast as you normally do. And this is a time sensitive issue.” 

“What issue would that be?”

“My lunch buddy bailed and now I'm sitting in drivethru at Big Belly Burger, about to get more food than I can possibly eat in one sitting.” 

Harry relaxes at the words. He settles in, leaning back against the wall, and wonders what color pants Cisco is wearing today.

“That does sound like an emergency.”

“Their fries are like crack but no good warmed up. I was wondering. If you didn't already have lunch plans or anything, I mean. I was thinking I could swing by the labs. Split the salty goodness with you.”

“You want to bring me lunch.”

Harry thinks he can hear Cisco shifting in his car. “I don't _want_ to. Everyone else I know is on a diet right now. And you said you liked their triple triples.”

He had said that, when they were in Starling City and Harry tried to take Cisco to a five star restaurant that had no french fries. Cisco had crinkled his nose and said a place that was too fancy for french fries was too fancy for him. 

“Your staff think I'm your boyfriend anyway. It would look weird if I didn't bring you lunch and drop in for a little afternoon delight every now and then.”

Harry glances at Snow hunched over her computer. Cisco said his lunch _buddy_ had canceled - not client. What client would be meeting him for Big Belly Burger, anyway. 

A flutter of something too gentle for lust pulls at him. This really is Cisco, offering to bring him lunch. Not re-scheduling a meeting. Not answering Harry's summons or agreeing to a standing running date.

Is this on or off the clock. Is Harry paying for this. Is Cisco allowed to initiate dates or is this even a date. Is this - what is this. What does Harry want it to be.

“If you're too busy - ”

There's a soft hurt in Cisco's voice that outweighs all of Harry's questions. “No. I mean yes. I'm a busy man, Ramon, but I have to eat. Just come by my office.”

“Okay. See you in a few. And. Yeah. Okay. Bye.”

-

Lisa remembers Cisco, of course; Cisco is unforgettable.

Harry finds them chatting the fourth time he leaves his office to check if Cisco has arrived. (The first two times Lisa smiles at him, a parody of innocence but the third time she asks him if he thinks she’s forgotten how to use the phone.) Cisco is balancing a carrier with two large drinks and a bag full of artery clogging heaven. He looks a little disheveled, a little frazzled, hair a frizzy halo around his face and shadows cast under his eyes.

When he finally sees Harry, though, whatever heavy cloud that’s darkened him breaks. His smile reaches the sky like Harry’s scowling face is exactly what he’s been waiting for, what he needed. Harry rubs his sweaty palms over his thighs while his heart trips over its own beat.

“I didn’t know Lisa worked with you,” Cisco says as Harry takes the drinks and food from him. He arranges them on his desk and pushes the guest chairs closer. “Was that just a happy coincidence?”

“It was just a coincidence.”

They eat in a silence that is mostly comfortable. Harry feels helium light. It’s not nerves. It’s very obviously clearly not nerves because that would be a stupid reaction. They've been inside each other. There's no reason for Harry to be nervous during their lunch - not date, because they don’t date. They meet. They arrange. 

This doesn’t feel like a meeting, though. And it certainly isn’t an arrangement. Cisco invited himself. Cisco initiated it.

“Not that I’m complaining about free food,” Harry says, careful because he doesn’t want to disturb whatever it is that drew Cisco here, cautious because he needs an answer and doesn’t know why. “But isn’t it usually the client who proposes the date?”

Cisco chews on the end of his straw. “This isn’t really a date. You’re not actually getting afternoon delight in the workplace.”

Harry nods, willing himself to accept the simplicity of Cisco’s words. It’s not news that Cisco authentically enjoys his company, even platonically, and it shouldn’t feel new to sit across from each other, drinking sugar and chatting.

“I actually did have an ulterior motive.” Cisco takes another slurp from his drink.

“Can you not - ” Slurp. Harry clenches his jaw. “Slurp.”

“Sorry,” Cisco says with no real apology and slurps again. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Well that’s never a good conversation starter.” Harry digs his teeth into his triple triple. He knew there was a reason Cisco called, Cisco showed up here. He doesn’t want to hear it, though. All the curiosity from before, all the quickness of his heart, is replaced with lead. 

Cisco bites his lip. “These past weeks have been - great. Really great. I didn’t expect them to be or you for you to be so. Great.”

“Christ, Ramon. Are you fake breaking up with me?” Harry tries to keep his voice light but this is exactly the same tone Tess used the first time she decided they should go their separate ways. He forgets how many times they broke apart only to come back together. It wasn’t ever easy but it wasn’t hard, exactly. He knew they would always find each other again. But with Cisco -

Cisco is tied to him because he’s a job. Harry never considered Cisco would quit him.

“No,” Cisco says, not at all calming the storm that’s sprung sudden and violent inside of him. “I’m not breaking up with you. Fake or otherwise. But I think. I have to tell you this, okay, and I’ve been trying, and I keep - you keep being handsome and distracting but I have to tell you. You have to just sit there and listen and not distract me, okay?” 

“I can’t stop being handsome.”

Cisco drops his head back and Harry watches the bob of his Adam’s apple. Harry decides he doesn’t care. Whatever it is Cisco _has_ to tell him, whatever Harry _has_ to listen to, it doesn’t matter.

Harry sought out an escort, bought the boyfriend experience, to get his hands around what he needed while avoiding the messy thing that seems to be spilling between them. He reminds himself that he still wields the check book. 

He stands up. Cisco stares at him with something like desperation.

“That doesn’t look like you getting ready to listen,” Cisco says.

“Before you tell me whatever it is you have to tell me, I want to show you something.” 

Cisco glares. “I’m serious, Harry. I’ve been psyching myself up for this. You can’t just steamroll me like you steamroll everything. You can’t just - ”

Harry curls his hands around the chair and leans in. “Do you want to see the accelerator?” 

The words fall right off Cisco’s sharp tongue. His mouth closes. Opens. Closes again. His pupils start to bleed into heat.

“That’s not fair,” Cisco breathes. “That’s not in any way fair.” 

Harry offers Cisco his hand. “I promise I’ll let you tell me anything you want after.”

Cisco eyes Harry’s hand like it’s going to lead him to certain doom.

“I’ll let you see the schematics, too.”

“God damn you.” Cisco says it through clenched teeth, but he takes Harry’s hand.

-

Cisco is silent for a full five minutes. Harry actually times it. He leans in the doorway, arms crossed, smirk in place, while Cisco wanders awe mouthed around the cortex.

“It’s beautiful,” Cisco says, no humor, only the reverence and respect a true engineer can carry for the elegance of Harry’s design.

“You should’ve come to work here,” Harry says thoughtlessly. He realizes he means it as soon as he says it. “The rest of them don’t appreciate this like you do.”

Cisco shakes his head. “Didn’t you tell me once it wasn’t your ego you needed stroked?”

“I’m fairly certain I didn’t phrase it like that.” Cisco runs his fingers over the glass, keeping his touches soft, as if he’ll upset the delicate balance if he applies too much pressure. “And I’m not talking about my genius. I have enough people to appreciate that."

Cisco rolls his eyes. “Such a charmer, Harry.”

Harry pushes away from the door to come up behind Cisco. He takes in the long, sturdy line of him, the flyaway hair, the stretch of Cisco’s light peach jeans around his thighs. Would Cisco still dress the same way if he worked at STAR? Harry has a dress code but he doesn’t know he’d have it in him to enforce it if Cisco strolled into the labs everyday with his ass encased in fluorescent fabric.

He presses himself along Cisco’s back then slides his hands over Cisco’s shoulders, down his arms, curling his fingers around Cisco’s wrists with the same tender touch Cisco bestowed upon his designs. Cisco’s head lulls back as Harry lifts his palms to the glass.

“You’re doing it again,” Cisco breathes. His eyes are closed. “Dickstracting me.”

Harry laughs against Cisco’s hair. “We both got distracted the last time we were at the hotel. You still haven’t gotten your blowjob.”

“Harry.” Cisco dips his head forward and Harry noses at Cisco’s hair, clears enough space to fasten his mouth to the back of Cisco’s neck. “Harry, you can’t - you’re not playing fair. You’re - ah - a bad man. A very, very bad man.”

Harry tugs Cisco to face him and Cisco follows his direction much easier than he normally does. He tilts eagerly into a kiss and lets Harry pin him against the glass and slide a knee between his legs. Cisco’s hard and hot. Harry bites at his mouth.

“You’re so easy,” he teases, breathing against Cisco’s ear. “I bet you’re wet already.” 

“Not for _you_ ,” Cisco hisses. “Dick.”

They keep kissing. Cisco grows more desperate, more impatient, squirming against Harry’s heat and whining. Harry’s jaw is aching to get around Cisco but he makes himself wait. 

“Harry. Stop teasing. I only have so long for lunch and - ” 

Harry digs his teeth into Cisco’s neck because he’s already exhausted his self control by not dropping to his knees. Hearing Cisco confirm what Harry already figured out, that this lunch is off the clock and just because Cisco wanted to see him - talk to him - is enough to drag him down Cisco’s body.

“Oh my God. Am I really getting head in what is probably going to be the greatest scientific advancement of the 21st century.”

“Not if you don’t say please.”

Harry looks up at Cisco - who still has his hands curled into fists and pressed against the wall - with his fingers hooked inside Cisco’s jeans.

Cisco looks down at him. Harry can see it’s a struggle and throbs in his own pants when Cisco gives in. “Please, Harry. Please. Stop being an asshole.”

Harry makes easy work of Cisco’s pants and almost easier work of Cisco. He was right; Cisco's already flushed and leaking. Harry presses kisses to the too hot skin at first, just to hear Cisco curse him some more, before licking a wet line from base to tip.

He makes Cisco say please again then finally, finally sucks Cisco down. Cisco scrapes his fingers into Harry's hair and fucks into Harry's mouth, wild, and Harry matches the desperation of Cisco's moans. He wants to do this for hours. Keep Cisco heady between his lips and keening on edge.

Cisco starts to spout nonsensical filth. Harry presses one palm to Cisco's hip, reveling in the cut of it, and squeezes himself with the other hand. That breaks anything Cisco was holding back. He makes the prettiest broken noise and starts moving in earnest, pumping forward and gasping and Harry just let's him, just soaks it in.

“Harry, I'm - shit, Harry, you gotta - ”

With Herculean strength Harry pulls off and surges to his feet. He slides his fingers against the back of Cisco's head, pulling his hair to bare this throat, and wraps the other hand tight around Cisco's dick. Cisco scrapes at his chest like a wild thing and comes with a final sobbing sound.

Harry doesn't bother assessing the possible damage to his pants before he works his belt and zipper undone.

“I want your mouth.”

Cisco opens his eyes. He looks _wrecked._  Harry presses against him, dick sliding against Cisco's stomach. It feels stupid good, sensitive head against flat, soft skin. He's entranced by the feeling and the sight of Cisco's abdomen quivering at every thrust.

“On this floor?” Cisco asks, still too breathless to capture casual. “Harry. Think about my knees.” 

“Are you serious? If my knees can take it, yours certainly can.”

“But your knees are old and used to wear and tear.” Cisco's voice has taken on the whine that goes straight to Harry's dick.

Cisco pushes Harry away enough to undo his shirt, pulling it all the way off his shoulders. He yanks Harry back by his sweater and slides their foreheads together. Harry's eyes drop to Cisco's wet mouth when Cisco's hand drops to his cock.

“Like this,” Cisco says, hot against Harry's lips. He rubs the head of Harry's dick against his stomach and Harry feels a little weak, watching Cisco's belly jump at the slick slide. “Does that feel good?”

Cisco's mouth would feel better, but Harry can't even complain. “Yes,” he hisses and Cisco's fingers tighten around him just the way he likes it.

“I want you to.” Cisco pants, leans forward and kisses along Harry's jaw to his neck. 

“Want me to what? Tell me. Cisco.”

Cisco keens like he's the one being touched. “Want you to come all over me." 

Harry's hands scramble into Cisco's sides for purchase. He grips, trying to keep steady, and angles his head away from Cisco's mouth so he can watch Cisco touch him. 

It's not like he's never made a mess of Cisco's skin before, but this feels different. Significant. Harry can't take his eyes off it. 

He glances at Cisco's face to see him watching the way their bodies press together, looking as hot as Harry feels inside. He's biting his lip.

Harry pins Cisco's face between his palms and kisses him. It's more tongue and breath than anything, but it's enough to push him over the edge. 

Cisco is a sticky, sloppy mess afterwards. Harry's not much more put together. He finds some paper towels stashed on a workbench and does his best to clean them both up. As far as he can tell, they at least managed not to get come on either of their clothes. 

The air is thick when Harry takes a ragged breath. It expands heavy in his lungs. Cisco won't meet his eyes.

Harry throws the paper towels away and orbits back into Cisco’s pull. He doesn't hesitate before leaning in, breathing Cisco in and right back out. Whatever Cisco was going to say is gone.

“Do you still need to talk,” Harry says, only because he knows Cisco doesn't.

Cisco finally looks at him. “No. I mean. Yes. But it can wait.”

Harry kisses the top of his head. The affection of the gesture should probably feel strange. It doesn't.

- 

When Cisco walks Harry back to his office - _because I'm a gentleman, Harry_ \- Snow and Lisa are chatting at Lisa's desk. They're smiling, laughing together, and while Harry's never sensed any tension between them he didn't think they were as friendly as they look now.

Suspicious.

“Cisco,” Snow says when she sees them, grinning. It dims a little - out of respect, he's sure - when she looks at Harry. “I was just about to text you.”

Harry frowns. He glares at Cisco. “Why is Snow texting you.”

“What am I, psychic? I don't know.”

“To thank him.” Harry flicks his glare to her. “To thank you. For getting us in touch with your brother’s caterer. I thought we were going to end up getting Big Belly Burger for the wedding.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I can't believe your guy bailed at the last minute. That was fucked up.”

Snow reaches into her lab coat and pushes something pastel at Cisco. “We just got our Save the Dates. I know it's a little non traditional to hand deliver them but I was bringing Lisa hers and I thought - I wanted to give Dr. Wells his. Yours. Both of yours, I mean.”

Harry stares at the note, watching Cisco run his fingers over the lettering.

“This is so much more tasteful than Dante's,” Cisco says. “I love him, but he and Melinda have the worst taste.” 

“Not in picking best men,” Snow says. Cisco's smile is brilliant. “Or in caterers. Seriously. You saved us.”

“It really was not a big deal. I'm just glad to help. Does this have where you're registered?” 

Harry decides this is getting out of control. He grips Cisco's shoulder. “Don't you have to get back to work? I thought your lunch break was almost over.”

Cisco looks at his wrist. He's not wearing a watch. “Yeah, it's getting to be that time. It was lovely seeing both of you again.” 

“You too, Cisco,” Lisa says, _looking_ at Cisco in a way that makes Harry crowd closer to him.

“Yes. And please don't worry about a gift. You've already helped us out.” 

“This gift will be on the big guy,” Cisco says, leaning into Harry.

Snow and Lisa smile wide. Harry guides Cisco away from the harpy grins with both hands. 

“Will you ask Lisa where they're registered? I don't want to just get them a toaster.”

“No,” Harry says, walking Cisco to the elevators.

Cisco frowns at him. “We're not going without a gift.”

“We’re not going at all.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” Harry tries to find an answer in the face of Cisco's expectant gaze. “I don't want to. I don't like weddings.” 

“Everyone likes weddings. And we got a hand delivered Save the Date.”

“ _You_ got a Save the Date.” 

“Then I'll take you as my date instead of the other way around.”

Cisco doesn't seem to realize what he's said until he's said it. Then he looks away, like he's forgotten the boyfriend experience only goes one way. But maybe it shouldn't. Cisco gets paid to be on Harry's arm, and while Harry won't be getting any cash compensation, it's not as if he won't be getting anything at all if he poses as Cisco's date. He'd get Cisco, after all.

“Fine,” Harry says simply, hoping it will halt Cisco's gears from grinding. “But I'm still not dancing. And you have to pick the gift.”

Cisco stares at him for several moments before saying, “Okay. Deal.”

-

A few more days pass. Harry and Cisco are supposed to meet in the morning for a run before work, but Harry goes to the track that night anyway.

The air has finally got warmer. Heavy and humid, pressing sweat into Harry’s chest. Running through the mud of it is better than the treadmill at home. It centers him. Weighs him into the earth. Makes it easier to think. 

He’s been putting too many decisions on the back burner. All of his urges have been to push forward, forward, forward. Pursue and move. All of the manic energy that had been building during the stagnant past has poured out of him, spread into the projects that are finally rolling.  

He pulls in breath through his nose and exhales ragged through his mouth. Focus.

Jesse is coming home in one month for the summer. She’s going to spend it interning with Stagg Industries. Harry wanted her at the labs but she’s too stubborn. She inherited that trait from her mother.

It doesn’t matter. In a few years, she’ll be graduated and working side by side with him at STAR. The labs will be built into something great again by then. The accelerator will be ready. The GEOS Project will be the past.

Grodd will have to be gone.

They'll observe him through the project’s end, but Snow was right. They can't release him and testing on him now wouldn't yield anything of value. Snow and the rest of the team will have to get over it; Harry has faith they will, but if they get too teary eyed, he can always lie to them.

Jesse will never know about Grodd. He won't have to hide anything from her when the time comes.

And Cisco -

He runs until his lungs burn. Sweat coats him but it feels clean, along with the exhaustion that overtakes him. Cisco would bitch him out for getting gnarly if he was here, would probably screech if Harry tried to kiss him in his current state.

Cisco will keep asking about Grodd. Even if it's not out loud, he'll wonder. Harry pictures telling him the truth. He pictures lying.

He could. The same way he can subvert the truth if he needs to protect Jesse. But he doesn't want to. He just wants Cisco to accept that this is what he has to do and still look at him like he's as brilliant as the sun.

He wants Cisco to bring him lunch. To  think of him, want him. He thought the safety net of their arrangement was  enough to secure it. 

What had Cisco needed to tell him today? Surely Harry has enough cash and enough earned capital in Cisco's life to keep Cisco in his regardless of whatever is weighing on Cisco so heavily. Maybe Harry should've just let him say it.

They can't keep their arrangement up while Jesse's home, after all. Harry's run every mental simulation he can think of and when he factors in reality and not whatever he's been living in, none of the scenarios end the way he wants.

-

When Cisco meets him for the morning run, he's wearing glasses. Harry has never seen Cisco in glasses. Cisco's hair is pulled back in a mess of tangles and flyaways.

Harry's never seen him so disheveled. Distress signals blare in his head.

“Did you fall asleep in the woods?”

Cisco flips him off. 

“Dante came over,” he says, settling in the grass. He doesn't move to stretch. He kind of just deflates like a cranky, cute little balloon. “He and Melinda had a fight and instead of sleeping on the couch he decided he would come to my apartment at 2:00 AM.”

Cisco puts his elbows on the ground and rests his chin in his hands. His face compresses in a sad series of wrinkles. He looks like a disheartened puppy. Harry has the urge to pet him.

“So you came just to check out my ass while I run?”

“I'm running,” Cisco says, pitiful. “Am I not running now?” 

Something primal kicks in as he stares at Cisco’s little pout. Harry sighs. “Give me a second.” 

He jogs to his car and grabs the fleece blanket that has made its home in his trunk. It's a little hot for a balmy April morning but it'll do. 

Cisco is staring straight into the void when Harry returns. Harry waves a hand in front of his face to see if Cisco is sleeping or dead. After a few waves, Cisco blinks. 

“Here.” Harry thrusts the blanket at Cisco, who stares blankly. “I'll do my run. You take a nap.”

“I'm not a toddler,” Cisco says, but he takes the blanket.

“I don't want you getting fussy. Any fussier than normal, anyway.”

“M’not _fussy_.” Cisco settles on his side, pillowing his face on his forearm. “And at least I'm not a _dick._ ” 

It only takes half a mile for Cisco's breathing to even out. Harry only runs another half before taking the spot next to Cisco on the blanket. He watches the rise and fall of Cisco's chest. Gently, he pushes some strands of hair from Cisco's cheek. Cisco's nose twitches but he doesn't wake up.

Harry lets him sleep for almost an hour. There's no point in sending Cisco home. He said he had an early day - _wedding stuff,_  even though Harry hadn't asked - and then a day of work - that Harry had also not asked about. 

Harry checks his emails. He gets a good morning text from Jesse and he tells her he's catching up to her best time, absently running his fingers through Cisco's messy hair. At some point Cisco sits up a little, mutters something, then rests his head on Harry's thigh and goes back to sleep.

It's easy. Letting Cisco sleep in his lap while he soaks in the stirrings of summer and gets an early start to his work day. It's simple and loose in Harry's usually stiff muscles. Harry frowns at Cisco's closed eyes and touches his sleep warm skin. 

He hadn't wanted a mess or complications, but suddenly this seems so much cleaner than what he's paying for. Cisco, vulnerable and trusting, his for no other reason than because Cisco wants to be. Harry could still take Cisco on his arm when he needed a snake charmer but he could hang on Cisco's the same. Harry could share this Cisco with the world just as easily; could share him with Jesse too.

Harry rubs his thumb along Cisco's cheek. “Time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”

Cisco makes an unintelligible but cranky noise and burrows into Harry's leg.

“Ramon. Come on. You have to pick up the programs or you'll ruin your brother's wedding.”

“I don't care,” Cisco says into his skin.

It takes a few minutes but Harry manages to get Cisco into a sitting position. He blinks and rubs his eyes under his glasses and is generally adorable in a way that makes Harry want to push him on his back.

“Did I fall asleep?” He looks around the same way Harry imagines goldfish have to reprocess their world every five minutes. “Did you bring me a blanket? I must be dreaming. You wouldn’t bring me a blanket.” 

“If you were really dreaming, would either of us be wearing clothes?”

Cisco narrows his eyes, suspicious. “You wouldn’t be,” he says finally. “Why do you have a blanket?”

“When Jesse was young, she would always get cold, no matter where we went, but she’d never bring a jacket. Eventually I just started carrying this around with me everywhere.”

Cisco glances down at the fleece, picking at grass then a loose thread with his fingers. Finally he says, “Sorry I was a shitty running partner.”

“You’re always a shitty running partner,” Harry says easily. Cisco smiles, still sleepy, but brighter than earlier. “Next time your brother comes over that late, you should leave him in the hall.”

“Believe me, I gave that very strong consideration. But.” Cisco flicks another piece of grass from the blanket. He’s not looking at Harry or anything in particular and Harry frowns at how unfocused he seems. “I told you we lost touch a few years ago. When I decided to get my degree in engineering and not in music. I didn’t follow his footsteps and he took it really personally.”

Harry nods even though Cisco still isn’t looking at him. Cisco has talked about their estrangement before but it’s always in vague, sullen passing. He’s told Harry that it’s a big deal to be the best man in Dante’s wedding, that he’s taking it seriously so he doesn’t screw them up again. Harry never believed their rift was Cisco’s doing. He’s told Cisco as much.  

“I know, I know. It wasn’t your fault, Ramon.” Cisco pitches his voice low in what Harry assumes is supposed to be imitation - poor imitation, Harry doesn’t sound like that. “But it still feels like I could’ve been there for him more. I’m trying now. And I feel like the Lord is truly testing me.” 

Harry puts a warm hand on Cisco’s knee and squeezes until Cisco looks him in the eye. “You’re a good brother, Ramon.”

Cisco looks a little like Harry hit him in the gut. Harry gives in to the urge and presses a kiss to Cisco’s temple. He doesn’t wait for Cisco’s reaction, instead pushing up to his feet and offering Cisco a helping hand up.

“Come on. Neither of us want to be late.”

“We’re still on for tomorrow, right? Dinner with Ollie and Felicity?” 

Harry hates the nickname because Oliver doesn’t. He nods. “Yes. We’re still on. Dinner at the Grand.”

“Then dessert?” Cisco asks as he comes to stand, only inches between them.

“You sure you’ll be up for it? You won’t need another nap?”

Cisco flips him off again. The unease in Harry fades.

-

The conference call with Eiling is background noise. Harry can’t focus. He can still feel Cisco’s hair on his leg, can still see how soft Cisco looks sleeping against him.

“Dr. Wells,” Snow says. She's looking at him like she's being say his name for a while. 

“I don't want to talk to your secretary,” Eiling says. “I need a date for when we can start testing this in my guys.”

“She's not my secretary,” Harry snaps. “She's the one who's leading this project. And unless you want your soldiers ripping each other's heads off, you'll wait.”

“Exactly how long do you expect me - ”

“Until it's done,” Harry snaps and presses the button to end the call.

Snow’s eyebrows are in her hairline when Harry looks at her. It's a look Cisco has been giving him a lot lately.

“What.”

“Nothing. It's just been a while since the BC Wells has made an appearance.”

Harry frowns. “BC Wells?” 

“Did I say that out loud?” Snow tries to cover with a smile. When Harry doesn't back down, she gathers her folder and heads to the door. “Thank you. For correcting him, I mean.” 

Harry shrugs. “There's nothing wrong with being a secretary. That's just not what you are.”

It's not a big deal but Snow is looking at him like he's morphed into something soft and cuddly.

“I don't pay you to stand at the door," he says.

The look doesn't change even as she leaves.

Harry tries to focus on the updated schematics from the accelerator team, but his focus is pulled taffy tacky between a hundred different things, at least 30 of which are related to Cisco's hair. 

He's earned coffee, he decides. Lisa has elevated both the food and the caffeine situation at STAR. Harry has given her the raise. 

When he passes by her desk, she asks for a vanilla latte and he pauses. 

“Are you still keeping up with employee gossip?” 

Lisa smiles as her fingers move across the tablet. “I was told not to be involved in employee gossip.”

“What does BC Wells mean?”

“I have no idea.”

“Fine,” Harry says, making a mental note not to let Cisco and Lisa spend too much time together. They would be horrendous influences on each other. “No latte.”

She sighs and puts the tablet down. “It used to be BL Wells, actually.” Harry frowns. “Before Lisa. But then everyone met your boyfriend and we realized I can't take all the credit for the newer, softer Dr. Wells.”

“I'm not soft.” 

Harry crosses his arms. He doesn't want his employees to be _afraid_ of him but he doesn't want them to see him as _soft_. As weak. He flashes to the tenderness of Cisco’s body, his smile.

“So BC is - not a reference to Christ.” 

Lisa smiles. “I mean, Cisco has the hair. I'm fairly certain he could be a successful cult leader.” 

“That's fair,” Harry says, smiling despite himself. 

“It's nothing against you, you know. Both Old and New Testament Wells are respected. Or against Cisco. Everyone thinks it's nice that you have someone to care about you.”

Harry doesn't know how to respond to either the idea of his staff being invested in his personal well being or the impression he and Cisco have given.

“We’re not that serious,” Harry says, because he feels like he should. If he can't stop himself from getting invested, he can at least stop other people.

Lisa looks entirely unconvinced. “Maybe you should let him know that, then. Because he does care about you,” Lisa says, softer than Harry thinks he's ever heard her. The Cisco affect. “It's obvious.” 

“You've only seen us together one time. You don't know - anything.”

“I know I've never had anyone look at me the way he looks at you.” There's a matter of fact edge to her sadness that makes Harry feel - not bad, but vaguely embarrassed. “If I had someone smile like that at me, I'd lock it down.”

Harry doesn't tell her he does have it locked down, in a way, but he's going to have to hide the key while his daughter is in town. He can't pretend with Jesse the way he can in front of his staff.

Instead he just tells her he's getting coffee and to hold his calls. When he turns on his heel, Lisa calls out her order after him. He pretends not to hear her, but he brings the latte.

-

Harry almost asks Cisco if he can pay a retainer fee for their arrangement over the summer. Hold his spot while Jesse is home and he can't parade Cisco half truth and half lie in front of her. He doesn't want someone else taking his place.

Even if Harry is different than Cisco's other clients, there wouldn't be anything to stop someone even more different from stepping in while Harry has to step out. 

And Harry won't be there to constantly distract Cisco from whatever it is he distracts Cisco from. What if, in his absence, Cisco forgets why he puts up with Harry other than the paycheck. What if he doesn't smile the same. What if they can't pick up where they left off.

He should've considered how this between the threshold relationship would weather Jesse, especially after their last conversation. Someone at the labs or at Stagg could ask her about the man Harry’s been seen with at the charity and business dinners. She could ask someone else. Even if Harry puts their arrangement on pause, Jesse could still discover his lies. 

But he wasn't planning, just reacting, just being reckless in a way he hasn't been since he was young and didn't know how to temper following his gut with planning ahead. 

He isn't sure if he has other options, either. He doesn't know if Cisco cares about him enough to take the pay cut of being with Harry free of charge. If he would be willing to choose chemistry over business because Harry doesn't want to lie to his daughter as much as he doesn't want to let Cisco go.

And Harry isn't exactly sure how to function without the safety net of their arrangement.

He hasn't had anything as real or thrilling as this in decades, since Tess. All the wounds of losing her have been cauterized; his skin's a little tougher over the scars but they've healed. He used to remember her and feel the death inside him all over again. Now when he thinks of her he just feels the joy they had together. 

But that fulfillment doesn't erase how difficult it was to share his life with another person. He knows he's not asking Cisco to marry him but it feels as towering, as overwhelming. Commitment is commitment, no matter the package.

-

That night, before the dinner, Harry makes his decision. He’s not a risk taker.

After dinner, he’ll tell Cisco he has to take a rain check while Jesse’s in town. He’ll ask to hold his place. He knows Cisco does care about him, but caring can only make up for so much lost profit.

-

Cisco wears a bright pink suit jacket and a button up with fucking _polka dots_ to dinner. Harry wants to rip it off of him and the urge is only half driven by how well the cut accentuates the dip of his waist.  

Oliver smiles with a touch more appreciation than Harry thinks is appropriate for a business meeting.

“You know, last time I was asked to do GQ the stylist tried to put me in something like that,” Oliver says once they're all seated.

“You should've worn it,” Felicity says. “It looks good. On Cisco. It'd look good on you too. Better, even. I mean.”

“Does she have an off button,” Harry mutters. Cisco hits his shoulder.

Felicity smiles. “I wish.” 

Oliver touches her shoulder. It's soft and significant and Harry rolls his eyes to Cisco who's taking it all in with gentle eyes. Harry hits his shoulder back.

“Well if they ask you again you should rock whatever the stylist gives you,” Cisco suggests.

“It wasn't the same. There wasn’t pink involved.” Everyone laughs and Harry tries to flag down a waiter.

“Well if you get asked again, _I'll_ be your stylist,” Cisco says.

Harry scoffs. "You have absolutely the worst taste out of anyone I've ever met.”

Cisco waves his hand dismissively. “Harry doesn't know anything about fashion.”

“I know aesthetics.”

“You don't have an aesthetic. You just wear black sweaters. That's not an aesthetic.”

“I think they think dark colors project their authority,” Felicity says.

“Mixing patterns _does_ project authority. It's called power clashing.”

“Do we need to send you to the kids table so Queen and I can talk about actual grown up things?” Harry asks.

“I’d like to learn more about power clashing, actually," Oliver says.

Oliver and Harry do go over their venture, but only after Cisco has gone into unnecessary detail about the fine art of mixing prints. Color and scale are very important, apparently.

It's more of an effort to pretend to be annoyed than Harry thought it would be. Cisco gets so _excited._  His face holds the same easy glee it did when he explained the modifications he made to the STAR phone or the portable fucking machine - which Harry shouldn't be thinking about at a business meeting, really. 

Eventually the topic fades into the line of personal communication devices he and Oliver have been bouncing ideas about. Cisco segues into it with such grace Harry forgets to go into Business Mode, still caught in the electric thrill of potential innovations. He's not thinking about contracts or profit when he tells Oliver about STAR’s past failures.

They talk about the obstacles. People want something new but ultimately it has to be functional. Shiny and fresh does not a sustainable product make.

When Oliver asks Cisco what kind of phone he has, Cisco produces his original STAR model with a smile. Harry feels a little warm with pride.

“It was a good base,” Cisco says. He looks right at Harry when he adds, “If you've got that, you don't just give up or go for a newer model. You work with what you have.”

Harry tries to read Cisco's unreadable expression. Does Cisco think Harry's going to trade him in for a newer escort? Surely not. Harry's made it clear at this point that he just wants _Cisco_.

Was Cisco planning to trade Harry in, then? Maybe a new client was asking for the upgraded Cisco experience and Cisco was considering pushing Harry out of the roster. But that doesn't _feel_ true in a  Harry's chest. 

“Are you suggesting we re-make these? No offense, Harry, but even you said the first run was a disaster.” 

“It's Dr. Wells,” Harry says. “And it wasn't the design, per say. It was about - connection. The carriers and the tech and the capabilities. That's what all these stupid gadgets are for, right? Connection.” 

He looks right back at Cisco, who smiles like Harry's just solved the puzzle.

And then Harry does.

-

Harry sits in the hotel room love seat, watching Cisco jump on the bed and wondering how he could be so fucking oblivious. 

He knows he obsesses. He fixates and everything else blurs at the edges. But he's not stupid. He doesn't just _miss_ things. 

Especially this.

Cisco tires out his excited energy and collapses on the bed. His chest is moving with his rapid breath. His smile is wide when he sits up.

“I'm so stoked!” he says and Harry smiles back at him. “How are you not stoked?”

“I'm incredibly stoked.”

“You're not acting like it.”

“I'm stoked on the inside.” 

Cisco sits up on his knees, all eager, exploding supernova because of _Harry's_ success.

Because Cisco is in love with him.

He doesn’t just want Harry past the point of his usual escort/client relationships. He doesn’t just enjoy Harry’s intellect or running by his side. He doesn’t just _care_ about Harry.

How could Harry not have seen it?

Harry wonders when it happened. How long Cisco's been looking at him with that depth of affection and Harry's been missing it. He tries to remember the first time Cisco told him he had something they _had_ to talk about, but can't.

Harry knows he's not a kind person but he's not cruel. Not intentionally. He wouldn't have been so dismissive if he'd known what Cisco had been trying to confess.

“Come on, dude. This is a big deal. We have to celebrate!” 

Harry tilts his head. “How do you propose we celebrate?” he asks at the same time he realizes this is why Cisco was so resistant to Harry purchasing the boyfriend experience.

Cisco must’ve already fallen for him, or was at least in the process. It must've hurt him then - he must've been in pain these past few months, only having the shadow of what he wants with Harry.

Harry knows he must have been. Harry's been aching too and Cisco is so much more tender. 

“I have some ideas,” Cisco says, wriggling his brows.

“You're so embarrassing.” Harry's fondness pulses alongside his want. “Come here.”

Cisco has lost the jacket and shoes. He comes to straddle Harry’s lap. Harry rubs his hands over the stretched tight fabric of Cisco's black jeans, then brings them up to the buttons of Cisco's shirt.

“What do you want, Harry?” Cisco rests their foreheads together. His grin is positively obscene.

“A nap,” Harry says, honest. 

“You poor baby.” Cisco pets through his hair. “I only reserved the room for a few hours. Do I need to make it the whole night?”

Harry noses along Cisco's cheek, the hollow of his throat, and rests his forehead against Cisco's collar bone. The thin sliver of visible skin is warm. 

He needs a little more time and space than this hotel room. The pieces to everything he wants are within reach, but he needs a second to put them together. To process and weigh the risks now that he understands why Cisco smiles at him the way he does.

But he thinks he knows what he wants. Cisco at every business dinner, Cisco in his bed, Cisco at his side. He wants to be able to tell Jesse the truth about what they are to each other, to have them meet and not worry about having to pull Cisco out of her life or worry what she finds out.

Can he really have it?

“You should come home with me,” Harry says against Cisco's shirt.

Cisco goes rigid in his hands. “Well that's not exactly efficient. I mean we have a perfectly good bed right there.”

Harry raises his head to look Cisco in the eye. “But then we can just go to sleep after our celebration. Tomorrow's Saturday. You have somewhere you have to be in the morning?” He asks carefully, leaving room for Cisco to evade or answer as honestly as he wants.

“That's not really allowed.” Cisco shifts on his lap. “What's wrong with here?” 

“Nothing. I just want you for longer than a few hours.” 

Cisco stares at him, suspicion eating up the heat. “You're being weird. Why are you being weird? Are you dying?”

Harry can't help but laugh. Cisco seems caught between concern and irritation.

“Dick,” Cisco says, but he still looks worried. “Stop it. You're freaking me out.”

“I'm not doing anything.” 

“You're being all. Soft. I don't know. You're not bossing me around or manhandling me and you keep _looking_ at me like - like that. Am _I_ dying?”

Harry tugs him into a kiss. Maybe tonight isn't the right time to make any deep emotional excavations.  

Cisco pulls away from the kiss long enough to ask, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Harry doesn't answer, just pulls him back in. Cisco comes.


	3. Chapter 3

After Harry realizes Cisco is in love with him, he spends the weekend internally struggling about what to do with the knowledge. 

Keeping Cisco as his boyfriend in action but at bay with compensation is a cruelty. Harry won't keep hurting him with this arrangement.

But he doesn't know how to end it. He wants Cisco running at his side, charming his peers at charity events, and losing his mind in Harry's bed. He could ask. He's confident now that Cisco would say yes. 

Harry isn't sure he can be all Cisco wants, though. There's a reason Cisco has kept his feelings to himself and it can't all be Harry's fault. Maybe Cisco isn't sure Harry will function as a real boyfriend. Maybe Harry's better as a fake.

He hasn't reached any final decisions by Monday. Work is busy. Harry can feel the heart of STAR thriving with energy of multiple projects. It reminds Harry of the beginning of the labs, when it was doing more than pumping out the same apps and products.

The schedule pulls him in and out of meetings, calls, the Cortex. He misses a call from Jesse and three texts from Cisco about _doing lunch ;)_ that it physically pains him to decline. Cisco says he understands.

Harry doesn’t leave the office until after 9:00 PM but the late night feels good. It’s the first of many, he hopes.

He calls Jesse - she doesn’t answer; he leaves her a voicemail - then texts Cisco to see if he’s free for dinner, no winking face, wondering if he'll catch Cisco in one of his confessing moods. He knows he has to keep his hands to himself if he wants to get the truth from Cisco’s mouth and he’s just exhausted enough to do it tonight. 

It’s difficult to imagine Cisco’s taunting lips forming around the confession. Harry wonders if Cisco will say the words exactly; he can see Cisco saying _I love you_ but he can’t see Cisco saying it to him. Maybe he’ll pull some sort of pop culture reference. Hold Harry’s hands and say _as you wish_ and kiss him very gently.

_i’m on best man duties tonight :/ tomorrow?_

_I’ll be working late. Be a good boyfriend and bring me something to the lab._

_i’ll be the best boyfriend and bring u something hot ;)_

-

Harry falls asleep on the couch trying to figure out the common denominator in all of Cisco's attempts to confess his love. He thinks Cisco may try again tomorrow and his heart sugar rushes in his throat. He's not _giddy._  He's just decided he's ready. He'll wait for Cisco to say the words then respond with his gut.

He wakes up to his phone buzzing on his chest. Assuming it's Jesse, he doesn't even open his eyes, just gropes and presses the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Quick. It's pretty late. You could've waited until tomorrow to call.”

There's silence on the other for several beats. Then laughter. Hysterical and very male.

Harry frowns and pulls his phone back, almost expecting to see a wrong number. It's Cisco's. 

“Ramon?”

“You guys. Cisco's man calls him _quick._  I wonder how he got that nickname?”

“Who the fuck is this?”

“Sorry,” the voice slurs. “We just wanted to see who Cisco had saved as _big guy_ in his phone - ”

Harry thinks he hears Cisco in the background, high pitched and indignant.

“Dante?” Harry asks.

“Aww. You told your boyfriend about me, hermano! He won't tell us anything about you! We just want to know he's being taken care of better than the last guy.”

Harry narrows his eyes. “Cisco doesn't need taking care of.”

“Score one for the big guy.” Harry hears Cisco yelling in sharp Spanish. He can guess what Cisco's saying. “Next portion of the interview. Do you have a job, a car, or any illegal - alleged - I can't think of the word.”

“Give the phone to Cisco.”

“Oh. He sounds scary, hermano. He's not into anything shady is he?” Someone - a female voice - asks what he sounds like. “The Arrow, kind of. Oh my God. Are you dating the Arrow?”

Harry can hear the suffering when Cisco says _yes Dante, I'm dating the Arrow_.

“Satisfied? Now hand the phone over to your brother or you'll be honeymooning with an arrow through you.”

There's a shuffle of shoes and clothes and people. Harry hears Cisco say something dark in Spanish then breathe heavy in the phone.

“I am _so_ sorry.”

“Don't apologize for other people,” Harry says. He hears a ding then the sound of cars. Cisco must've gone outside. “Are you okay?”

Cisco sighs. “Yeah. I'm just - it's Dante's bachelor party, and as best man it's my sacred duty to get him white girl wasted. Which was fun the first three hours of the evening.” He sounds tired.

“Where are you?” Harry asks, not really thinking. He's past the point of tired where his eyes won't open fully. “I'll come get you.”

“No, that's - you don't have to come rescue me. We're at this bar where they have retro video games and cheap beer. I'm sure it's gonna be our last stop of the night.”

“You sure? I'm the Arrow, after all. Saving damsels is a thing I do.” 

Cisco laughs and it makes the tight fist of anger in Harry's chest loosen. “That's not the Arrow's MO. But thank you for the offer.”

The conversation lulls. Harry doesn't want to hang up yet even if he's too tired to speak. It's comforting, just to hear Cisco smile and breathe on the other end. 

“Do you really have me in your phone as big guy?” 

“God.” Harry can picture Cisco pushing his hair behind his ears and glowing embarrassed. Harry smiles. “Please just erase that entire interaction from your brain.” 

He thinks about Dante’s voice when he said _the last guy_ and the scientist in him wants to know, just out of curiosity. But he meant what he said. Cisco can take care of himself. Whatever is his past is his past, just like Harry's.

Theyre each other's present. Could even be each other's future.  

“You're sure you're okay?” Harry asks, more gentle than he normally is where Cisco is concerned. He wishes Cisco were curled up with him, wishes he could press every tender thing he feels into Cisco's skin.

“I've been dealing with Dante's shenanigans for nearly three decades. I'm sure. Go back to sleep. I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Harry's tongue, still slippery thick with sleep, almost lets a _be safe, love you_ slip. He nearly swallows his cheek trying to choke the words down.

Cisco doesn't seem to notice. “I really do appreciate the offer to rescue me. Thank you.” 

He sounds soft, solemn in a way he rarely is and rarely should be. It would be so easy for him to say the words now. Harry wants him to say it now.

 _Come on, Cisco._  

“Harry. I - ”

“Francisco! You can talk to your scary boyfriend anytime. We have only have now to play Mortal Kombat!”

“Dammit Dante. I’ll be there in a second!” Cisco yells, harsh, and Harry knows the moment is gone.

Dammit Dante.

“I gotta go. See you tomorrow, big guy.”

“Be safe,” Harry says.

Cisco pauses. Harry's almost not sure his sleep deprived brain didn't add anything else. 

“You too. I mean. I will be. See ya.”

He hangs up. 

- 

When Harry wakes up the next morning, the fog of angst that had been clouding his head has been cleared. Cisco wants him. Knows him at his most primal and honest and still fell for him. Of course Cisco wants the real thing. Just as much as Harry does. 

He just has to let Cisco reach for it.

The thing is, Harry doesn't have a problem being the first one to do the _love you_ thing. He's never actually been the one to do it - he was just always a little too late - but he could. 

But Cisco is different. An escort admitting they'd fallen for a client is nothing short of a blockbuster. A client admitting they'd fallen for their escort, though, asking them to forsake the money and be with them - that's just pathetic. Cisco would never let him live it down.

He checks his watch. It's only a quarter after five and Harry never actually specified when _late_ was but he wants Cisco here _now._  He's more tired than he thought he'd be after a day of ignoring Eiling’s emails and trying to reassure Dr. Snow.

She's identified the issue that caused Grodd’s aggression. Her current subjects are docile and susceptible. One subject learned sign language within a matter of days because Snow _told_ him to. They both know the serum will be ready to test on human subjects soon, but there's still hesitation in her voice when she communicates her results.

STAR is so close to being everything Harry's always wanted it to be he can almost taste it. The success is worth whatever knots in their guts. He isn't sure his message got through to Dr. Snow, but she seemed less anxious when he left than when he arrived. 

When Harry glances at his watch again, only a few minutes have passed. He's still reading the same report he's been reading since he got back to his office. 

He goes to Lisa's desk to stretch his legs and ask her to call Cisco. It looks more official if his assistant calls to see if Cisco is going to make their meeting than if he calls to impatiently tug at Cisco's shirt sleeve.

Lisa isn't at her desk, though. 

“Ramon,” Harry says as that dark, glossy hair comes into view. Cisco is spinning around in Lisa's desk chair. There are sparrows on his shirt today. “What have you done with my assistant.”

“I sent her home. Congratulations. I'm your new secretary.” Cisco stops spinning to face Harry. His mouth pulls into a thrilled grin. “Sexretary.” 

“Please tell me you didn't say that joke to Lisa.”

“I literally just thought of it. Sometimes I amaze myself at my own wordplay. I should text her.”

Harry is going to suggest that he absolutely not do that when the smell of something wonderful teases his empty stomach. Did he eat today?

Cisco notices his distraction. “I told you I'd bring you something hot. You said you'd never had Paco’s before.” 

They set up dinner on Harry's desk. There's a chicken platter that's still warm and so much guacamole Harry wonders if another person or six will be joining them.

“I don't share. This is the best guac in town. And I got yours with no onions.” 

“You know how I feel about them,” Harry says and tries not to feel warm inside that Cisco knows him so well. They fit so good together.

Cisco is definitely going to tell him he loves him tonight.   

“I do know how you feel about them, weirdo.” Cisco's smile is entirely fond.

Harry devours his platter, half his towering tub of guacamole, and a few of Cisco's tacos. Cisco didn't get onions in them, either, because Harry always steals his food. Cisco is so gone for him.

“So am I the best sexretary or am I the best sexretary?” Cisco shakes his head. “I don't care what you say. I'm telling Lisa I said that, she'll think it's amazing.”

Harry shakes his head back. “There's no way the two of you becoming friends ends well for me,” he says, but he can't help his smile. It's good for them, he thinks, even if he's sure it will end in his disaster. 

“You're doing it again,” Cisco says, eyeing Harry warily. “Have you seen those nature documentaries where lions go into blood lust and devour their prey then get all sleepy and soft? That's how you're looking at me right now. I feel like I'm about to get eaten alive.” 

Harry narrows his eyes. He promised himself he wouldn't be distracting. Cisco can't make himself say what he needs to say when the air between them is hot and sticky sweet. Maybe it's an escort thing that won't let him cross the wires between love and sex - not that those wires have served him well in Harry's case. 

Whatever the reason, Harry had made the conscious decision to honor it. Love confession from Cisco first, _then_ Harry would fuck him over the desk.

“Okay,” Cisco says, licking his lips that will still have the fresh, salty taste of one of the best meals Harry's ever had. “Now I really feel like I'm going to get eaten alive.” 

Harry has enough self-discipline not to give into the blown wide black of Cisco's gaze. He has enough self control to not to be pulled under that animal hunger even when Cisco looks ready to offer himself up on a silver platter.

He does not, however, have whatever strength a person needs to stay still when Cisco rises and comes around to lean over Harry's desk chair. His hair falls in a silky sweet curtain. The dim light of the office only highlights his eyes, the full curve of his mouth. 

“Are you still hungry, Harry?” 

It's cheap and it's cheesey but so is Harry, now at least, after Cisco's influence. Harry leans up only to have Cisco pull away.

“This is a really nice desk,” Cisco observes, casual. “You ever banged on it?” 

They bang on it.

There's a little work, first. When Cisco moves to just push everything on the desk Harry slaps his hand and makes him move every piece of on the surface somewhere suitable.

“This is the least sexy thing we've ever done together,” Cisco complains.

"What about when we had to tranquilize a homicidal gorilla?"

"Are you kidding? That was incredibly sexy. This is lame. You're degrading the spontaneous sexiness of the moment."

Harry undoes Cisco's jeans and bites out all of his whining until Cisco has traded it for groaning around Harry's tongue.

Cisco moves to hunch himself over the desk, but Harry urges him on his back with his hands and a few low whispers.

“Like this. I want to see your face.”

“Yeah?” Cisco snorts but let's himself be positioned. Harry makes quick work of his own shirt and pants as Cisco scoots back. “Just to get a laugh?”

Harry frowns.

“Come on. People make the dumbest faces when they're doing the do." 

“Do I look dumb?” 

“The dumbest,” Cisco breathes. Harry knows he's teasing. He can tease too.

He slides against Cisco, getting his hands around Cisco's ankles to sling them over his shoulders. There's some discomfort when he has to curve his spine to push his dick against the back of Cisco's warm thigh, but it's worth it when Cisco squirms.

Cisco tries to fuck down when Harry brings two fingertips to him. Harry breezes them away until he stills.

“Good boy,” Harry praises just to make Cisco glare at him. When Cisco opens his mouth, Harry presses those two teasing fingers inside him. He's slick and warm and perfect, just the way Harry likes him. Whatever Cisco was going to say slides back over his tongue.

“Do you want to know what you look like?” Harry asks.

“Not - particularly.”

Harry tells him anyway. 

“You always look like you're getting fucked for the first time,” Harry says, sliding a third finger in. Cisco chokes on a curse and clenches around him. He bites his lip and Harry feels his chest expand. He smiles against Cisco's calf. “Like you're surprised it feels so good. And it feels so, so good.”

Cisco curses out loud then and presses his legs against Harry's shoulders.

“Does it feel good, Cisco?” 

“Get bent,” Cisco keens. “Come _on_.”

Harry starts to, pressing against Cisco but not inside. He can tell Cisco is trying  to keep his face still, clenching his jaw and closing his eyes. That's not happening.

“Open your eyes.”

“You open your eyes.”

Harry doesn't move. Eventually Cisco opens does what Harry asked. His gaze has bled almost black, his pupils are so wide. There's a tender slant to his desire that urges Harry to give up anything Cisco wants.

Keeping eye contact, Harry presses an open mouthed kiss to Cisco's ankle. Cisco takes a shaking breath. Harry keeps brushing his mouth over Cisco's skin.

“Harry. Stop teasing. Make me feel good.”

Something hot flips and drags in Harry's stomach. He _does_ want to make Cisco feel good. Better than anyone else ever has. 

Harry fucks in as slow and teasing as he can. Cisco keeps his eyes open the entire time. 

When he's pressed flush against Cisco's body, he just stays there, soaking in Cisco's warmth, the way Cisco looks at him. It's the same way Cisco stared him when he talked about the accelerator the first time, when he showed Cisco the cortex. Like Harry is magnificent.

Harry keeps his pace as even and deep as he can. Cisco is so sweet, melting and moaning and meeting Harry's thrusts. He wants to keep Cisco just like this for hours.

“Touch yourself,” Harry says, soft but urgent.

“Not yet,” Cisco breathes. “Don't wanna come yet.”

“Then don't. Just touch it. I want to see you.” 

Cisco grinds his teeth. “I'm too close.”

Harry loses it a little at that. All the times they've touched and Harry's never considered using tenderness to wreck Cisco like this.

He picks up the pace, seeking out his finish, and comes with Cisco panting his name. His body feels empty but his head feels light. He holds himself up with his arms on the desk and watches Cisco fist his own dick.

When they're both spent and dressed, Harry collapses in his chair. Cisco slumps on the desk, legs open, and runs his fingers over Harry's scalp.

“You have mad sex hair," Cisco muses. "Did I even mess with your hair?”

Harry lets his head lull in Cisco's hands.

“You have to put everything back on my desk the way it was," Harry tells him.

“Don't you have people for that?” 

“Yes,” Harry says. “My sexretary.” 

-

Cisco doesn't spill that night or the day after when Harry takes him to a pointless business luncheon. Harry thinks he's going to three days after when they go for a run; there's a moment when they've finished and are leaning against the fence and time settles thick and still between them. All Cisco does is smile.

It's starting to get on Harry's nerves. 

He decides if Cisco doesn't bring up the fact that they've crossed the line from escort/client to actual lovers when he gets back from Dante's wedding, Harry's just going to bite the bullet and do it.

So what if Cisco mocks him forever. It'll be better than just waiting around.

-

“I can't make it to the Stagg Industries thing.”

Cisco and Harry are lying in the Grand hotel. Cisco is eating his chocolate waffles that Harry fully realizes he's going to have to learn to make once Cisco starts sleeping at his house. Harry's staring at an email from Eiling that he doesn't want to deal with.

“What Stagg Industries thing?” They need at least three more months before they can test on human subjects, but he knows Snow will insist for more.

“The charity thing. Lisa told me about it.” Harry looks up from his phone. “Did she not tell you?”

“She did. I told her I wasn't planning on going.” 

“You should. The wedding stuff has been extended by a few days so I won't be here for it. But I think you're finally old enough to handle yourself.” Cisco pats his shoulder.

Harry can. But - “I don't want to go without you.”

Cisco pauses with his fork to his mouth. “We don't always get what we want.”

“I usually do,” Harry says, putting his phone down.

Cisco finishes his bite. He stares at his plate for a long time, obviously thinking. This is it, Harry thinks. He straightens against the headboard and fights the urge to smooth down his hair.

“I want you to come with me,” Cisco says, so softly Harry almost doesn't hear him.

“To the wedding?” Harry asks. “Or the outdoor family shit?” 

Cisco still doesn't look at him. “Both.”

“Okay,” Harry agrees easily. It sounds awful, for the most part, but Cisco isn't going to be able to keep his love confession to himself surrounded by wedding stuff and Harry in a suit. “I have a few things I can't move but I'll be free a few nights - ”

“Woah. Hold your horses there, cowboy. I don't actually expect you to come. You have more important stuff to do.”

Harry frowns. “I can make a few things. And the wedding. Just send Lisa the specifics.”

Cisco puts his plate on the night stand. When he turns to Harry, he slides on his side, bringing his fingers to Harry's collarbone. He pets at Harry's skin.

“That's very sweet,” Cisco says gently. “And very out of character. I'm still not convinced one of us isn't dying or something. But my family aren't like those progressive Catholics you hear about. Dante and most of the cousins are cool about me dating dudes - and anyone who isn't hasn't been invited to Dante's wedding.” 

Harry nods and watches the designs Cisco's fingers make on his chest.

“But my parents don't know and I don't think they'd be thrilled. They still think I'm going to marry a nice Catholic girl and have three kids and live right next to them so they can babysit.”

Harry's heart stops for a second. He hasn't ever given much thought to Cisco's youth or inexperience, mostly because he's never thought of Cisco as inexperienced. But there's a lot he hasn't lived and maybe Harry's taken that for granted. Harry's too old to have anymore kids. If that's something Cisco wants, though, he should have it.

“Of course they haven't taken into account all the times I've said I don't really want kids,” Cisco continues, oblivious to Harry's internal struggle. “Not that I don't think they're cute but I used to babysit my younger cousins. At the end of the day I could always give them back. I don't think you're allowed to do that with your own kids.”

“You're not,” Harry says, mind reeling. “So you don't want children of your own? Ever?” 

“I mean. I would adopt an older kid, I think. But the diaper changing and potty training? No thanks. Give me a kid that already knows how to go to the bathroom and drive.”

Harry leans in to kiss him. When Cisco opens to him, easy and eager, Harry gets a hand under his thigh and guides him up to straddle Harry's lap. 

“Talking about how I don't want to be a dad really does it for you?” 

It does, actually. Harry loves Jesse more than anything in the world but if he has to go through the new baby sleep cycle again he's going to pull his hair out. He kisses Cisco's throat.

“I'll make you a deal,” he says against Cisco's pulse. “I'll go to the charity thing if you promise to at least try to join me.”

“I probably can't,” Cisco says, tilting into Harry's mouth. “But I'll try. Promise.”

-

The next morning, Harry tells Lisa to RSVP to the Stagg charity. He thinks about adding that she has to stop talking to Cisco outside of the labs, but neither of them are going to abide that, so he doesn't bother. 

He has a touch base with Snow at eleven so he spends most of the morning in the cortex. It's only a little embarrassing when he looks at the corner where he and Cisco defiled the work space. Hewitt leans against the glass at one point and he nearly chokes on his breath.

There's a part of him that's a little ashamed, but mostly he's thrilled. Mostly he can't wait to do it again.

His meeting with Snow isn't nearly as fun.

In his office, she spends a lot of time wringing her hands. After the third time she doesn't answer a direct question, Harry slams his hand on the desk where he fucked Cisco into a shuddering mess.

“Spit it out, Dr. Snow.”

Cisco is leaving in the afternoon. Harry wonders if he has time to play secretary again before he leaves.

“Grodd spoke to me.”

All thoughts of seeing if Cisco could fit on his knees under the desk fly out of Harry's head. Well. Most thoughts.

“He spoke to you… using sign language? You did teach him how to do that. Before.” Grodd hasn't done it since his freak out but he did have the capabilities.

“No. Not using sign language.”

“He couldn't have _spoken_ with his voice.”

“That's not what I'm saying.” She sounds frustrated but she's not the one with her top bioengineer saying a gorilla talked to them. Harry crosses his arms. “I heard his voice in my head.”

“His - what voice? He's a god damn gorilla. He doesn't have a _voice."_  

“I know how it sounds, Dr. Wells, but it happened. Dr. Park heard it too.”

“Well now I have two cuckoo for coco puffs in my lab instead of one. Brilliant.”

“It was Grodd.”

Harry gives himself a moment to take everything in, including Snow herself. She's kind of a wreck. Her skin is ashen and her eyes are glassy. She's still pulling at her own hands. 

“How do you know it was Grodd?” 

“Because he said it was.” Her voice is strained, soft. She's scared, Harry realizes. “He told me it was him and that...”

“That what? What did he say to you?”

Snow looks at his desk, her hands, a clock on the wall. Anywhere but his face.

“Snow.”

“He said he was in pain,” she whispers, eyes watering and glued to her lap. “He said he was going to make us all feel his pain.”

“Christ.” He broke his best doctors. What a way to end the quarter.

“You can ask Dr. Park. She heard the same thing. We have to stop the project, Dr. Wells. We have to - ”

“What we have to do,” Harry interrupts, “is get you some time off.”

“I tell you a giant homicidal gorilla is about to go on a rampage and your response is I need a vacation?”

“No. The leader of one of my most lucrative projects just told me she thinks she heard the voice of a pained gorilla in her head and my response is that she needs some space from the project.”

“Dr. Park - ”

“Has been working on this project right by your side for a while. And I understand it's difficult. I appreciate it, Snow. So maybe you all need a break. Work on other things that aren't so ethically toiling.”

She squares her jaw. “You don't believe me.” 

“Of course I don't believe that a gorilla was talking to you _with his mind_. But I believe something got to you and Dr. Park. Probably just exhaustion coupled with a conscience.”

The determination on Snow’s face falters. Harry sighs and looks out his window at the brightness of the day. Spring sun and air. Cisco's voice telling him he needs to take care of his people. Tess always told him that too. _We're not in the business of innovation, Harrison. We're in the business of people._

“If you don't want a vacation. Oliver Queen has a project he could use a few brilliant bioengineers on.” 

“You want me to get some rest by going to work for another company?” 

“ _With_ another company. And you'll like it. If you'd rather take the vacation…” 

Harry tries not to insult her by using the phrase leave of absence. He doesn't need her getting defensive. But she's hearing voices. He won't pull them in for a psych evaluation - he thought crazier things were happening to him when he was finishing his dissertation - but he can't keep her or Park on without a little mental health break.

“You really think it's just stress?” she asks. Her hands have finally stilled.

“I know it is. Take some time. Work on something new in a new city. You and Park can take anyone else on the team. Whoever stays here can flex their muscles on different projects." 

“What about Eiling?” 

“What about him?” 

Snow smiles for the first time. “Ronnie thinks it's just stress too.”

“Okay,” Harry says. “Lisa will make the arrangements. Just let her know who you want to go.”

“Can I bring her?”

Snow, Park, and Lisa loose in Queen Consolidated? “No.”

“What about Cisco? He says it's awesome, except for the fact that Felicity hasn't updated some sort of copper wiring? He's very passionate about copper wiring.”

“I'm aware. Also no. Cisco isn't my employee so he isn't an option.”

Snow pouts a little, but she gets over it quickly. She's still smiling when she thanks him again and goes to speak with Lisa. 

Harry makes a point to visit Grodd’s holding area that day. Grodd doesn't rage against his enclosure or sign anything. His voice doesn't haunt Harry's head.

He does look sad, somehow. He does look pained.

Harry shuts the door and doesn't let himself think about it again.

-

It's the first weekend Harry's spent without seeing Cisco in months.

Harry goes running. He does his laundry. He goes to the lab and works until his eyes are fuzzy.

It's only 4:00 PM on Saturday when he leans back in his desk chair and pinches the bridge of his nose.

Cisco texts him around that time. _we’re playing volleyball. guess who got put on the under 13 team._ It's followed up by a series of red scrunched faces that are more cute than threatening. A pretty accurate description of Cisco when he's annoyed. 

_Told you I should've come._

_would u have let me be on your team?_

_Yes. I’d even let you sit on my shoulders._  

_ur the real mvp harry <3 _

Cisco must get busy having his ass handed to him by pre-teens because Harry doesn't hear from him the rest of the night. 

On Sunday Harry wakes up and asks himself what exactly he _did_ Before Cisco.  He vaguely remembers the boredom, the sticky stagnate that used to suffocate from the inside out. The loneliness. He can recognize it now, with distance and time, the gaping black that took Jesse's place when she left for school.

She'll be home soon, filling it up. After she leaves, he'll have Cisco.

The rest of the week moves just as muggy.  

Snow and Park leave for Starling City. Harry makes a point to check on the rest of the team that Monday. They seem more than relieved to be out of their lab, leaving Harry to wonder if it was only Snow and Park that were spooked by something. He doesn't ask any direct questions, but does make a point to keep checking up on them.

At lunch, Cisco sends him a picture of his foot. There's a bruise across the top. _my little cousin dropped a rock on my foot!!! will you still take me to fancy places now that i'm deformed :(_

Harry can imagine exactly how much of a pain Cisco is when he's hurt. He probably whines and demands a very specific kind of snack Harry will have to drive to Key City to get, or something. Harry wishes he was there to take care of him now.

_No one looks at your feet at fancy places. Am I going to need to carry you bridal style everywhere?_

_no just build me a wheelchair with jet packs. rocket launchers too_

Harry spends the rest of his break drawing up the plans. When he sends the sketch to Cisco, he gets a text back almost instantly.

_amazing!!! ur the coolest and hottest person i've ever met. you're def getting a bj for that when i get home_

On Tuesday Jesse calls before he makes it to the lab. She's excited to come home. He can hear it in the rushed high of her voice, how she's ready to jump the last two weeks of school and get back to him.

On Wednesday Eiling calls. Harry almost passes it off to Lisa because he's tired of having this conversation. He reminds himself it's worth it and spends an hour assuring the general they're closer to schedule than they actually are.

On Thursday and Friday he gets to spend most of his time in the cortex. It leaves a loose feeling in his shoulders that usually only comes after a few hours with Jesse or Cisco's light. Someday he'll get to hand the CEO reins to Jesse and get spend all of his time in the lab hunched over his beloved projects. Of course he'll still need an office for when Cisco brings him lunch. And a sturdy desk.  

Lisa quadruple checks with him on Friday that he's still attending Stagg’s charity event. She writes up talking points on little notecards and prints the top ten ways to appear personable for him. Harry snatches the papers out of her hands and makes a show of throwing them in his trash can, but reads them when she leaves his office.

He's still holding out hope Cisco will be able to sneak away Saturday night. Cisco ignites it when he calls on Friday, just before the wedding.

“I'm so nervous I think I'm gonna throw up.”

Harry is still at the office, but he's sent everyone else home and has Cisco on speaker. He laughs a little too breathlessly. He's missed Cisco's touch, the look of him. He didn't realize how much he missed the _sound_ of Cisco.

“What do you have to be nervous about, Ramon? Don't tell me you forgot the rings.”

“Of course I didn't. I'm an amazing best man and I wouldn't do something that stupid.” Harry thinks he can hear the rustling of clothes - _Cisco checking his pockets._  “And I don't know why I'm nervous. But I'm freaking the fuck out. Calm me down.”

“Okay.” Harry comes up blank, though. “This would be easier if you'd just taken me with you.”

“Believe me, I've been regretting it. Listening to my tia Denise tell me how my lifestyle makes Jesus cry would've been worth it to have you on my sack race team.”

“I wouldn't have done that,” Harry says, but he would've. If Cisco wanted him to, he would've.

“You're a shitty fake boyfriend. I deserve fake better.” 

“You deserve the fake best.” Which isn't Harry, really. But Harry's what Cisco _wants_. That's what matters. 

Cisco inhales, sharp and breathy over the speaker. If he were here, he'd probably squirm under Harry's gaze. Maybe it'd be enough to finally make him say it. 

“You're not helping. Just FYI.” A beat of silence, then Cisco asks, “If you were here, what would you do?”

Harry leans back in his chair and considers it. “If you wouldn't let me just bring you back to the city? Probably just play with your hair until you calmed down. Tell you about what we finished on the accelerator today.”

“That sounds nice.” Cisco sighs. Harry can see him leaning back, breathing slower and letting his eyes flutter the way he always does with fingers in hair. “I like it when you do that.”

Hearing the calm in his voice gentles the pressure in Harry's own chest.

“Is Dante nervous?” Harry asks, keeping his voice low and soothing.

“No. He thinks Melinda’s his soulmate.” 

Harry scoffs. “Maybe that's why you're nervous. He's going into this delusional.” 

“They're really good together,” Cisco says.

“Is that what you think, then? That they're soulmates?" 

“No,” Cisco says after a few moments. “The idea of soulmates freaks me the fuck out, too. There are way too many variables on something like that. What if your soulmate lives on another continent or something? Or - I don't know. It's just not very comforting. Or realistic. I'd rather believe there are lots of people that I could love.”

There are. For Cisco, at least. And he let himself love Harry.

“That way if I fuck it up, I know there's still hope.” Cisco chuckles, a little strained.

“I can't imagine that. You fucking up. You're such a good boyfriend.” 

Cisco's next laugh is a little looser. “There's a first time for everything.” 

“Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah. Sorry I called you freaking out. I just…”

“Don't apologize.”

Now that Harry thinks about it, distancing himself from the moment, Cisco could've called anyone to talk to. His other clients. His real friends. Harry doesn't know that he's ever been anyone's first call besides Tess and Jesse.

“I really should've just brought you. I mean, you would hate it but it would've been a lot more fun for me.” 

“I might not have hated it. You're there.” It's like Harry's mouth has bypassed his brain. He just can't stop talking. 

“If leaving you sexually frustrated for a week makes you this sweet, I'm going to do it more often.”

“I'm hanging up now.”

“I have to get back anyway. But I do feel better. Thank you.” 

Harry wants to ask if Cisco will make the Stagg event, but he knows now is not the time.

“Call me later. Or text. Let me know how everything goes.

“Will do, big guy.”

-

Cisco texts him. _everything was beautiful and dante cried. idk why i was worried. bout to tear up the dance floor wish u were here_  

Harry eats Chinese from Cisco's favorite restaurant and finishes all the paperwork Lisa put on his desk. Jesse sends him some pictures of one of her final projects. He tells her to go to bed. She tells him the same.

-

Cisco sent a text as soon as Harry's head hit the pillow. _not gonna make the charity thing :(_

It's not like Harry doesn't know what to do without Cisco there. His arm does feel oddly light without Cisco's curved around it and the sight of dancing couples does make his jaw ache. But he’s fine. Wonderful, even. 

When he sees Oliver Queen speaking to a small group, a sense of relief floods him. Someone he knows. Thank God.

Harry makes a beeline to Oliver, snatching a glass of champagne on the way. 

“Dr. Wells,” he greets with a smile. “It's good to see you. Where's Cisco tonight?”

“He had a prior engagement.” 

Oliver doesn't hide his disappointment. “I have to do a cover for Starling City magazine. Felicity took some pictures of me in different looks. I was hoping to get his opinion. We’ll text him.”

Harry's not even surprised Oliver and Felicity have a group text with Cisco. Of course they do.

The evening is only mildly obnoxious. He and Oliver chat about their projects and Cisco's fashion sense. A few others drift in and out of his orbit, chatting about STAR and his daughter. Everyone asks about Cisco.

It gives Harry a clear vision of what the summer without Cisco's services would be like. 

His rounds haven't been as thorough as they should be but he's tired. He's going to exchange a few pleasantries with Stagg then head home. Maybe Jesse or Cisco will answer their phones.

He's making his way towards Stagg when Oliver intercepts him.

“I thought you said Cisco wasn't coming?” 

Confused, Harry follows Oliver’s line of sight. He can feel his eyes bulge like one of the cartoon’s Jesse used to watch when he sees what Oliver is nodding towards.

Cisco is there. He's fitted in a tux that looks more charcoal than black - does Cisco have two Armani tuxedos? - and his hair is down, curled in rolling waves that look softer and lovelier than the damn dawn. Harry has seen few things more beautiful in his entire life.

He moves towards Cisco like a particularly stupid moth to a bright bright light. Cisco is talking to a waiter - either looking for Harry or securing himself a supply of finger food and champagne for the evening. He finally looks up, though, their eyes meet, and Cisco smiles as light and wide as Harry's ever seen.

When Harry finally gets to Cisco, he can't keep his hands to himself. He curls one hand around Cisco's bicep and brings his other fingers to one soft curl. It doesn't matter that the waiter is still in Cisco's orbit or that he can feel dozens of eyes on him. Cisco is _here_.

“You came,” he breathes, awed.

Cisco's grin is nothing short of dazzling. “Dante said it was cool if I skipped the rest of the weekend to come be with my mans.” 

Harry answers his smile with one of his own. “You didn't call or anything.”

“I wanted to surprise you." 

“I usually don't like surprises,” Harry says, trying and failing to scowl. 

“Cisco!” Oliver appears as suddenly as Cisco. He moves in as if to shake Cisco's hand or pull him into a half hug, but he must notice that Harry's hands are still holding Cisco tight. “Harry here said you couldn't make it.” Oliver claps him on the shoulder. 

“He didn't know I was going to come. I was trying to do the surprise thing.” 

“That's so romantic,” Oliver says. _Lingering_. Harry glares until Oliver removes his hand. “So you two probably want to be alone.”

“Astute observation, Queen.” 

Oliver bows out after Cisco promises to catch up with him. Harry is still reeling from the shock of seeing Cisco where he didn't expect. That Cisco came here for him - to surprise him, romance him. Harry knows that wasn't a joke. It was real. 

Just like everything else between them.

“So,” Cisco says. He brings his own hands up to straighten Harry's bow tie and Harry doesn't know why, but that's it. Cisco is looking at him with all the fondness of an idiot in love and Harry knows he's looking at Cisco the same way. He feels the exact moment of giving in. He's going to do this. “What's our mission tonight, Mr. Bond?”

Harry takes one of his hands. “To, and I quote, tear up the dance floor.”

“I thought you didn't know how to dance?” Cisco looks a little dazed as Harry maneuvers them through the crowd.

“I know how. It's just been a while.” When they finally reach the floor, Harry stops. “But you said you'd lead.”

Cisco swallows, hard, and any worry Harry had about Cisco not recognizing this as a Gesture leaves him.

“Yeah. Okay.”

Cisco positions Harry's hands as if he's working with a horse that may spook or kick him. His own touch is devastatingly gentle as he curls his fingers around Harry's waist and holds Harry's hand.

They move through a soft, classic rhythm. Harry can't name the song but the feeling that it plants in his gut is young and sweet. He never made much time for romance when it was just him and Tess - that was never important to either of them. Swept up in Cisco's arms and smile and the music of a summer night, Harry finally understands the appeal.

He lets Cisco sway him through a few songs. Cisco reflects all of the dumb longing that leaves his throat full and dry. They don't speak but Harry doesn't think they need to. In each other's embrace he feels like they're finally reading the same script.

Eventually Cisco's head lulls a little and he rests his forehead on Harry's chest. Harry takes the opportunity to breathe in Cisco's hair.

“You're not so bad at this,” Cisco says softly. “Do you want to lead the next dance?" 

“No.” Harry pushes Cisco's hair behind his ear before leaning down so their foreheads are pressed together and they're breathing in the same air. “I want you to come home with me.” 

“Harry - ” 

“I don't care what rules we're breaking. It's not like we've been following them anyway.” Cisco looks away and Harry grips his chin, angles his attention back up. Harry breathes so close to him their lips almost touch when Harry speaks. “Come home with me, Cisco.” 

Cisco closes the distance with a chaste kiss that makes Harry's knees weak. Harry can feel it the moment he gives in, too. 

“Okay.”

-

There are no love confessions or tender, whispered touches when Harry finally gets Cisco home. Cisco steps through the front door and his attention is immediately arrested by the wall of glass that leads directly to the pool.

“Woah. You have an infinity pool?”

Harry trails behind Cisco as he practically runs to the pool. It's not exactly where Harry wanted the evening to go but considering his track record with Cisco and water, he's not going to complain.

The outside lights flicker on automatically when they open the doors. Cisco trails his fingertips over the water. He grins at Harry. 

“Heated?” he asks and Harry nods. “Damn. This is the bomb dot com dot u.k. dot org.”

Although Harry really did mean to talk about feelings, seeing Cisco under the moon and the gold of the lights, ethereal against the steam rising from the pool, Harry can't think past Cisco's smooth skin glowing in the water.

“Do you want to take a swim?” Harry asks.

“Hells yeah. You got some swim trunks I can borrow? Or are you a speedo man?”

He's not but the image of Cisco in one is both hilarious and disarmingly nice. There are plenty of suits in his closet.

“Sorry,” Harry says. “All out.”

Cisco stands and crosses his arms, challenge in every inch of his body. “Are you suggesting we skinnydip, Harry? Isn't that a little scandalous?"

“No one can see us. But if you're too chicken…”

“What are you, eight? You think you can bait me?”

Harry shrugs, echoing Cisco's challenge.

Cisco grins as he strips. It's quick and excited, cording Harry with more amusement than lust. His breath does stutter when Cisco's fully bared to the night and his hunger then jumps into the pool.

Harry just watches him glide through the cool blue. He's golden and shimmering and beautiful. His muscles flow under the bronze of his skin. He dips under the water then comes back up, swimming to the edge of the pool. All of his glossy hair is drenched against his skin. 

He smiles up at Harry, magical and magnificent. “You coming, big guy?”

Harry undresses a little slower than Cisco did. Cisco watches him with parted lips. The tease has bled completely into heat by the time Harry slips into the pool.

Cisco swims up to him. There's grace in his movements, just like when he dances, and Harry is hopelessly entranced. He stands still in the water as Cisco drifts into his space, leaning in to give Harry just a tease of his mouth.

“Think you can catch me?” Cisco breathes.

Harry blinks in confusion once before Cisco pushes away from the wall. He's nearly on the other side of the pool before Harry's brain kicks his body in gear. 

He chases after Cisco until both of them are laughing and breathless. It's fun, a thrill to Harry's heart, and he's so amped on lust and joy he actually lets Cisco slip out of his hands the first time he catches him.

The second time he gets Cisco, though, he keeps him. He manages to catch Cisco's ankle and haul him backwards, maneuvering Cisco against the wall before caging him with hands on either side of his head. Cisco smiles bright as the full moon and pants.

Harry presses himself flush against Cisco's front. Cisco is hard against his hip. It’s too good and Harry groans, spine curling to get his mouth against Cisco's. “Gotcha,” he breathes. 

“What are you gonna do with me?” Cisco asks, brushing their lips together. He licks at Harry's mouth but when Harry tries to deepen the kiss, Cisco pulls away. “Should I be afraid?”

“Terrified,” Harry says. He wants to devour Cisco; lick every droplet of water from his skin, suck the taste of sweat from his collar bones, rub against him until their scents and tastes entwine.

He never wants to let Cisco go.

Cisco finally lets Harry kiss him. Harry takes everything he can, gripping Cisco's hair and biting at his mouth until Cisco makes a hurt noise that makes Harry want to dig into his very marrow.

Legs come around Harry's waist, squeezing. Harry grips Cisco's thighs. He's missed this so much and it's only been a week. His hands are shaking around Cisco's so soft skin and he's so close to spilling all over Cisco's sweet body it's frankly humiliating.

How did he ever convince himself he could go an entire summer without this? 

Harry sucks at Cisco's jaw, thrusts to run their hip bones and cocks together. It _hurts_ and Cisco hisses, digging his fingers into Harry's side.

“Missed your dick so god damn much,” Cisco pants.

Harry laughs, breathless, and palms at Cisco's ass. He lets his fingers drift and relishes the way Cisco tries to buck down, swallow him up. “What else did you miss? Huh? Tell me.” 

“Missed your mouth.” Cisco bites his lip before licking inside, kissing him until he can't breathe. He burrows his face in Harry's neck. “And your - your fingers, Harry. Inside me.”

Cisco's not prepped enough to take much, not a fraction of what Harry wants to give him. Harry wants to fuck him until Cisco forgets his own name but he can wait for that. He can't wait to get Cisco off.

Harry manages to work the tip of his thumb inside, just enough to make Cisco keen and squirm. 

“Yes, this. Missed how much of a fucking tease you are. Missed. God. I missed you, Harry. I missed - ”

Harry takes his mouth in a deep, shuddering kiss.

“Turn around,” Harry urges, too hot to wait. Cisco lets Harry press him against the wall and arches into Harry when he slides his dick against the small of Cisco's back. 

Harry mouths kisses over Cisco's shoulders. He curls one hand over Cisco's hip, pressing his fingertips into the bone, and gets his other around Cisco's dick. Cisco says his name as he fucks into Harry's touch.

“Look,” Harry says into Cisco's ear, nudging Cisco to open his eyes and take in the view.

Harry's estate is high enough that he can see Central City's downtown, glittering in the night. It's always seemed like the city is spread out for his taking. Now, in this moment, it feels like the city is spread out for them.

“It’s beautiful,” Cisco says.

Harry sucks at the back of Cisco's neck. He thrusts forward, sliding between Cisco's heat.

“It's ours.” If that isn't enough to tell Cisco he feels the same, Harry doesn't know what is.

Cisco's head falls back. His eyes are blown wide and his mouth is bitten candy red. He twists his arms to curl backwards around Harry's neck. It's all the work he does; he isn't really thrusting back or forward, just letting Harry take him, but Harry doesn't mind. He sucks all the water from Cisco's mouth and works them both into a frenzy.

He comes first. It's practically punched out of him, pulling out his breath and his energy. His limbs feel like jello floating in the pool as he finishes Cisco off. 

Cisco turns fluidly in his arms to kiss him. When he pulls away, they just float together, enjoying the warmth of the water and the come down.

Eventually, Cisco squirms.

“You don't happen to have any towels down here, do you?”

Harry didn't even think about that.

He groans.

- 

They run through the house _naked_ , leaving wet footprints over the floor. Cisco flicks him with wet hair and when they finally get to the towels in Harry's bathroom, Harry snaps him on the ass.

Harry towels Cisco's hair dry. Cisco is like puddy in his hands. When Harry bites Cisco's ear and tells him to stay the night, Cisco doesn't put up any resistance.

They fall into bed. Cisco goes to sleep nearly immediately. Harry runs his fingers through Cisco's still damp hair and makes a decision.

Tomorrow. They're going to get it all out in the air tomorrow. Harry will open the floor for Cisco to make his confession. Surely he's already figured out by now that Harry feels the same, so there won't be any need to for ceremony.

They'll work out the transition of their relationship. Harry's not going to demand Cisco leave his job. If losing Harry as a client turns out to be too much of a financial hit - they'll get to it when they get to it.

Harry falls asleep thinking if worse comes to worse, Cisco can always move in with him. He's pretty sure he can find the closet space for Cisco's skinny jeans.

-

Harry wakes up to a scream.

It knocks him out of bed. He scrambles up, legs tangled in the covers, and it takes his sleep addled brain to go into overdrive before he can work himself free and grab a robe hanging off his bedroom door. 

There hasn't been any other noise since the initial high pitched shout but his internal alarms are going off. He races down the stairs, heart in his throat, and skids into the kitchen.

Cisco is standing, wrapped in one of Harry's robes, back pressed to a cabinet and fingers clutching a plastic bowl to his chest. 

Jesse is standing right in front of him.

“Jesse?” Harry didn't have the state of mind to grab his glasses and he has to squint.

“This is Jesse?” Cisco practically _squeaks_.

“Hi daddy,” Jesse says. “Um. Surprise?”

-

Jesse's here for the weekend. She wanted to get a head start on moving and see him before finals. Harry helps her bring a few suitcases from the cab while Cisco grabs his clothes from the pool - God, Jesse's face when Cisco said that's where he was headed to get dressed, Harry's never wanted the earth to swallow him up more.

While she's unpacking in her room, Harry heads back to the kitchen where Cisco is sitting awkwardly at the bar. Harry takes a deep breath before approaching him.

So this isn't exactly the way Harry had imagined the day unfolding. It certainly isn't how he wanted to broach the topic of re-defining their relationship. But maybe this will be easier. Harry can tell Cisco he doesn't want to lie to Jesse about being real boyfriends - so they'll just have to be real boyfriends.

Simple.

“So,” Cisco says when Harry takes the barstool next to him. “This is the most awkward situation I've ever been in in my life. What did you tell Jesse about the strange naked man making waffles in your kitchen?”

“About that.” Harry puts his glasses on the counter. Then he puts them back on. He rubs his palms against the sweats he threw on. “You know how I told you I wasn't going to tell Jesse anything about you?”

“Yeah?” 

Harry looks at the ceiling. “She heard about you. Coming to Queen’s first gala. Someone in her department saw us and - I don't know, it got back to her.”

“Those fuckin’ nerds,” Cisco says. “I told you they would gossip.”

“It is what it is, Ramon.” Harry wrings his hands. God. Why are they so sweaty? “I had to tell her something.” 

Cisco's eyes go wide. “What? Harry, what did you - you didn't tell her - what did you tell her?”

“That you were just a friend. Helping me out. But now. Well. The just friends explanation is. She's not buying what I'm selling.” Harry takes his glasses off again.

“You can't just tell her we had a sleepover?”

Harry glares at him. “She's not an idiot. And she's not. Unaware.” 

It's like he can't get out more than three words at a time. His throat feels dry and tight.

“So what you're saying is…? What exactly are you saying.” The nerves are deep on Cisco's face. Harry notices for the first time he's curling and uncurling his fists too. He's just as anxious as Harry. That's comforting.

“What I'm saying is. Everyone in town already knows you as my boyfriend. And with Jesse being back for the summer. It only makes sense to tell her the same thing.”

Cisco swallows, hard. “That I'm your boyfriend?” Cisco pulls at his shirt collar like it's strangling him. “Are you sure you want to do that? I mean, I wouldn't have thought you'd want to lie to her.” 

The moment of truth. Harry inhales.

“I don't.” 

Now he just has to get those last words out.

“Daddy? I'm done unpacking. Are you guys ready for lunch?”

Jesse is the light of his life. Harry would give his limbs for her happiness. He loves her. But his jaw tenses as he turns to see her on the stairs. Her face is bright and sweet. Harry can't be mad at her.

“Honey,” he says, teeth grinding. He can be annoyed, though. Just a little. “Can you give us a second?”

“No. It's cool. I'm just headed out.” Cisco slides off the barstool. He claps Harry on the shoulder. “You guys have fun. We’ll catch up on that other business matter later, okay?”

“Wait,” Harry says, sliding after him. He wants to reach for Cisco's arm but he can still feel Jesse's eyes on them. 

“You don't have to go. You're welcome to join us,” Jesse offers. 

“Yes. We were going to the country club. You'd love it.” Probably not, actually, but.

Cisco looks between both of them, face caught in panic. “I have a family thing. The after wedding stuff, you know. But you guys have fun. I'll see you around. And we'll talk.”

Harry doesn't know what else to say or how to get Cisco to stay. Cisco squeezes his shoulder again.

“It was so nice to meet you, Jesse.” 

“You too, Cisco.”

And then he's gone. 

- 

Harry and Jesse go to Cherry Springs, Central City's biggest golf course and club, for lunch. They eat outside. Jesse watches him stab at his club sandwich with the toothpicks shaped like swords. Cisco would get a kick out of them, he thinks. 

“I'm sorry I threw off your game.”

“You didn't.” Harry grabs her hand across the table. “I'm so glad you're here, Quick.” 

She squeezes his hand back. “If I’d know you were having a sleepover with your _acquaintance_ , I might've just waited though.”

“He - there was a, a thing. A charity thing and he went with me but. You know how interesting those things can be. By the time we got out it was late and he. We just.”

“Woah, dad. Don't have an aneurism. I'm not a kid, okay? I can figure out what happened.” 

“He just slept over,” Harry offers.

“Right.” Jesse takes a sip of her iced tea, entirely unconvinced. “You know I don't - I want you to be happy. Mom would want you to be happy. So that's the only question I have. Does being with him make you happy?”

Harry leans back in his seat, giving up on the sandwich. “Yes. It does. He makes my life better. And I. Care about him.”

Jesse's eyebrows shoot up. “That's - dad, that's great. Does he know you feel that way?”

“More or less.” Jesse's stare flattens. “Maybe more than less.”

“Is that why he ran away this morning?”

“He knows how important my relationship with you is. He didn't want to be in the way or complicate anything or.” Harry waves his hand, encompassing everything he can't tell her.

“Well I can't officially approve of him until I actually talk to him. Preferably when he's not wearing one of your robes.”

Harry laughs. It feels so strange to share this with her. He's always wanted to be strong, have everything together, have her look to him the way she did when she was three and told him he was her hero. He never wanted her to see what a mess he really is.

“I'm going to ask him on a date,” Harry admits. As soon as he says it he realizes it sounds more pathetic out loud than in his head. But he thinks it's for the best. Start with asking for a real date, _then_ ask for the real relationship.

“That’s so cute! Can I help?”

Harry rubs at the back of his neck. She looks so hopeful and sweet. Sometimes Harry forgets how tender she really is.

“Yes, you can help. He has to say yes first, though.”

“Dad. The man was making you waffles. He totally looks wants to date you.”

- 

They spend the rest of the day settling her back in. That night they cook pizza and plan his first date - they decide on a picnic at the beach, during twilight, and Jesse orders a pretentious looking basket online. He hands over the credit card, though. 

Sunday they run and have breakfast before Harry drives her to the airport. She kisses him about a hundred times. It's been a long time since he's felt so close to her.

He texts Cisco that Jesse has headed back to school. Cisco responds quickly, asking Harry to meet at his apartment for the first time ever.

Harry is so intrigued by the possibilities of Cisco's apartment that he barely registers the address until he's pulling up outside of Ocean Front Condos.

Harry triple checks the address. He lived in the condos when he and Tess first moved to Central City, but they both had sizable trust funds and their own investments. He knows Cisco makes good money, but if he can afford to live here before he even turns 30, Harry may have gotten into the wrong business. 

He's still staring at the address when he strolls up to the doorman.

“Good afternoon,” he greets. “How may I help you, sir?”

“Uh,” Harry says, putting his phone away. Maybe Cisco sent him this address as a joke? “I'm here to see Cisco. Ramon.”

“Ah, you must be Dr. Wells. Mr. Ramon said he would have a guest coming by. Allow me.”

Mr. Ramon. Harry mouths it to himself as the doorman lets him in. Cisco is on the 10th floor. Harry notes all the upgrades since the last time he was in the condos. Everything is glass and marble, modern and high end. The price for a unit has to be almost double what he and Tess paid.

When Cisco opens the door, Harry breathes him in. His hair is slightly damp and curled over a thin yellow t-shirt and chestnut sweats. He's wearing his glasses. Harry wants to take him apart.

“Hey. You found the place okay?” Cisco moves and motions Harry inside.

Harry takes in the apartment. There are _things_ everywhere. Pictures and action figures and various pieces of tech Harry doesn't even recognize. There's an entire bookcase of board and card games. Everything looks like it has a place, though. It feels like a home.

“I have to say. My place never looked like this when I lived here.” 

“Thanks. I think. Do you want to have a seat? Do you want anything to drink? I have water, orange juice, beer, capri sun - ”

“Capri sun? Now there's an adult beverage.” Harry takes a seat on the couch.

“I could put vodka in it if you'd like to make it a little more grown up.”

“I'm actually not thirsty.”

“Okay. Well.” Cisco takes a seat on a caddy corner armchair. “I guess you're wondering why I've called you here today.”

“I'm pretty sure I know.” The nerves in Harry's skin buzz, pulling him too thin. He feels like running head first through the wall of glass windows. But he's waited too long for this to let something as stupid as the cold in his gut drag him away.

Cisco clenches his jaw. “You don't. You really, really don't, because you wouldn't - look, I just need you to not talk, okay? I just need to say this.”

“Ramon,” Harry begins. Cisco looks more nervous than even Harry feels and it nags at something like pity in him. “Cisco. I know what you're going to say, and I - ”

 _Feel the same_ , Harry is going to say, but Cisco shakes his damp curls and stands. “You don't. I wish you did because then I wouldn't have to tell you and nothing would have to change.”

There is absolute _misery_ drenching Cisco; Harry can see it practically clinging to his bones. Cisco is so afraid of losing him, even after last night, even after everything Harry has hauled from his humanity reserves and given Cisco without much thought. He really doesn't see that Harry mirrors that soft look Cisco is always giving him. He really doesn't know. 

“What if we say at the same time?” Harry suggests. If Cisco can't feel Harry’s emotion refracting against his, Harry will have to make him. “On three.”

Cisco looks like he's going to argue. Instead he stops his pacing, settling to stand in front of Harry with his hands behind his back. He’s wary as prey when he finally says, “Okay. On three.”

Harry rips the bandage swiftly. He counts down, watching Cisco's throat work as he does.

On three, he exhales, “You're in love with me.”

At the same time Cisco says, “I'm not really an escort.”

They both blink at each other.

“What?” they say in unison.

Harry puts up his hand when Cisco opens his mouth. “Stop. You - what did you just say? You're not - ” He shifts in his seat and his brain slides along with him like it's been shaken loose.

Cisco looks away. 

“What do you mean,” Harry grits. He can't feel the words. His tongue is numb. “What do you. You don't work for Mercury?” 

“No, I do. But not in the capacity of a gentleman companion.” Cisco pushes his hair back. “You know how I told you I work with R&D department sometimes? I kind of am the R&D department. I'm just the guy that makes the toys.”

Harry finds himself nodding. “Not an escort.”

“Not an escort.” Cisco bites his lip.

“I don't.” And Harry _doesn't._ The earth has just been yanked out from under his feet. “That doesn't make any sense. You were at The Grand.”

“I was. But it wasn't me you were supposed to meet.” Cisco scratches at his neck. “Do you remember my friend Barry?”

“The string bean?”

“He actually is an escort. He was the one you were supposed to meet. But Iris - he's been in love with her literally forever, and she finally agreed to go on a date with him, so I told him I’d go in his place.” Cisco laughs. There's no humor in it. “It was a stupid plan.”

Harry lifts his glasses to press his fingers into his eyes. “You lied to me.” 

“Harry. I - yes. About that. But nothing else. I never took any of your money.”

“My _money_?” That snaps all the tenuous plates shifting in his head. What's real and what's fake clash like meteors. Everything behind his eyes throb. “You think this is about fucking money?”

“No,” Cisco says softly, eyes downcast. “I'm sorry. Harry, you have to believe me. I _never_ meant for things to get this far. Because the truth is - ”

Cisco moves towards him, cautious, until he's standing over Harry. He cranes his neck up to look into Cisco's eyes. It's a mistake. Cisco looks so sincere and fragile and lovely. Harry just wants to hold him.

“You were right. About what you said. About how I feel.”

Harry swallows around a glass fist of rage. “No,” he rasps, feeling his throat split. “No I wasn't. You don't.” 

“I do, Harry, I - ”

“You _don't._ ” Harry snaps to his feet. Cisco steps back. “If you ever cared about me you wouldn't have been lying to me for _months_.”

“I wanted to tell you. I tried. I hated lying to you. But I couldn't - I was selfish, and a coward, and I didn't want to lose you. Because I care about you.”

Harry laughs and it tears him apart. “No one was holding a gun to your head, Ramon. You didn't have to meet me. You didn't have to lie the first time or keep lying. You - Jesus. I let you into by _business_. Into my home. You met my _daughter._ ”

“And that's why I had to tell you,” Cisco says. There are tears in his eyes, glittering and ready to spill. Harry won't let that sway him. “I couldn't let you lie to her.” 

“Get out,” Harry hisses.

Cisco blinks back tears. “Um. This is my apartment.” Harry glares. “But I can take a walk. If you need a minute.”

“No.” Harry doesn't need a minute, he needs a damn lifetime.

He turns to leave. Cisco follows hot on his heels but Harry ignores him. Manages to, at least, until Cisco reaches for his arm and says his name like it hurts him. Harry whips at the touch to seize Cisco by the shoulder and press him into the wall.

“Don't,” Harry says, low and packed with threat. “Don't touch me, don't talk to me, ever again.”

“Harry, please. If you let me explain - ”

“There's nothing you can say. I showed you - ” Everything. He showed Cisco the accelerator, his work, his labs, his home. His life. “Don't call me. Don't text. Don't. Anything. I don't want to see you again.”

“Please,” Cisco asks again, and all Harry wants to do is kiss him and pretend this never happened.

Harry digs his fingers into Cisco's shoulders, soaks up his heat one last time, and leaves. 

- 

Harry stays in bed for two days. 

He gets up to refill his coffee and use the restroom. One time, he drops the remote behind the nightstand and he moves to pick it up.

Other than that, he lays with his face pressed to the pillow and stares at his phone. Jesse calls and he can’t bare to have her hear his voice.

She texts him. _So when is the big date?!_

He texts her back. _Not happening. Sorry sweetie. At work. Call you soon_.

Cisco calls him five times. Harry doesn’t answer. Cisco leaves him five voicemails. Harry deletes them. 

Cisco sends him one text. _if you never talk to me again, and i don’t blame you if you don’t, i just wanted to say thank you. for everything you did for me. for letting me know you._

No kissing faces.

Harry Googles him again. Mercury Lounge is a publicly traded company and Harry confirms that a Cisco Ramon does own 60% of its subsidiary, Mercury Toys. Which Harry would’ve known if he’d bothered to scroll down the search results page past a few articles about Cisco’s past.

He should’ve read the page. He should’ve looked more, thought more, put it all together.

Of course Cisco’s not an escort. Harry _knew_ that. Cisco didn’t move or speak or fuck like someone who was being paid to. And Cisco did try to tell him.

Harry just didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to see it or hear it and he certainly didn’t want to believe it.

That doesn’t change the fact that Cisco played him. Cisco couldn’t love him and betray him so deeply at the same time.

Harry tries to delete the text, too, but can’t bring himself to do it.

- 

On the third day, Lisa shows up at his house. He hears her calling his name but doesn’t move from where he’s planted himself in the bed. 

“Dr. Wells?” Lisa pokes slowly into his room.

Harry doesn’t lift his head. “Go away.”

“You haven’t been answering your phone. We thought you were dead.”

“I am.”

Lisa sighs. “You know it’s Tuesday, right? You missed an entire day of work. Are you okay?” Harry doesn’t answer. She takes a tentative seat next to him, laying a hand on his shoulder. He shrugs it off.

“Dr. Wells. You have to get out of bed.”

“No I don’t. I can run the lab from here.”

“Okay. Well. You have a press conference with Oliver Queen tomorrow. You can’t do that from bed.” 

“Let Queen do it.”

“It’s a collaborative project. You guys need to have a collaborative press conference." He doesn't move. Lisa sighs again. "Do you want me to call Cisco?”

Harry digs his fingertips into the bed. “We broke up,” he says. It sounds so stupid. So childish and unreal.

He feels Lisa tense. “Well fuck,” she says, always eloquent. “That explains why he - nevermind.”

Harry finally turns to look at her. She’s put together, professional and pristine. Harry knows he looks like a mess in comparison. “Why he what?”

“When you didn’t show up and didn’t answer your phone, I called him. I thought maybe you two had eloped or something.”

He’s too weak not to ask. “What did he say?”

“Nothing specific. Just that I should probably give you some space then make sure you were okay. Also that I was a wonderful woman who deserved all the success in a world but that we probably shouldn’t talk anymore.”

Harry buries his head back into the pillow.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Peachy.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Harry flips her off.

“Well alright then.” She sighs again and stands. “I’m sorry. I really am. I know how much you two cared about each other. I’ve had my share of shitty breakups and I get that it sucks. But you can’t just stop living.”

“I’m not. I’m just. Taking a break.”

“Sorry boss. No time." She nudges him until he looks at her again then crosses her arms. "Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to take a shower and get dressed. I picked up some groceries in case you weren’t dead, so I’ll whip something up. Then we’ll get you to the labs.”

That all sounds just terrible. Harry wants to wallow. He’s earned that, he thinks.

“Dr. Wells. Come on. We have work to do.”

Harry tries not to think of Cisco, but it’s his voice that echoes. _Come on, big guy. You’ve got an empire to finish building_.

“What are you cooking?” Harry asks reluctantly.  

“Frozen pizza and salad.” Harry groans into the bed. “I’m not a chef, okay? Now take a shower. You smell like you haven’t gotten out of bed in days.”

-

Harry does take a shower. He stands under the spray and stares at the tile, remembering how he’d wanted to press Cisco into it. He’d never gotten the chance.

He gets dressed and eats bad pizza with Lisa while she writes out his talking points for the press conference. It’s as terrible as he imagined it would be, but she was right. He has to do it. His life can’t stop just because his pride has been shredded. 

So he goes to work. He does the press conference. No one meets his eyes and no one mentions Cisco, not even Oliver. Not directly, anyway. Oliver does an odd shoulder clap pat thing and looks at him with sad eyes that Harry shrugs away from. Snow gives him his very own Save the Date at their conference call with Eiling. 

On Friday, Harry corners Lisa. He knows she’s the reason no one has brought Cisco up. He pulls her into the most awkward hug either of them have probably either received.

That weekend, Jesse comes home. She doesn’t ask what happened with Cisco, either, even though he can tell she wants to. He’s grateful.

He wants to believe that not talking about Cisco will allow his heart to curl back into itself, disengage from every stupid memory and stupid hope he’d stupidly let tangle around him. It does help, a little.

Only a little.

He sees Cisco everywhere. Not physically, which is a little strange if Harry stopped to evaluate it. He’s used to running into Cisco at the coffee shop or seeing him with his little friends. It’s as if Cisco has disappeared from the city. Maybe he has. 

It doesn’t matter if he has, because Harry can feel Cisco at his side when he and Jesse go run at the track. He has to bite his tongue when he goes to Jitters to stop from ordering extra whipped cream on his coffee. He hears Cisco teasing him and sometimes when Lisa opens his door he thinks it’s going to be Cisco, arms full of food, smile shining. Every time his phone buzzes he has to blink when it’s not Cisco’s name. 

The moments he manages to shake off Cisco’s ghost, he can’t shake all the questions. The curiosity that gnaws at him independently of his internal injuries. It wants to know who Cindy is, how Cisco even came up the idea of his sex toy business, who the hell is hiring _Barry_ as an escort. It demands answers regardless of Harry’s hurt. 

A dozen times Harry’s fingers hover over Cisco’s number in his phone, but he doesn’t call. He’ll live with the unanswered questions. He’ll have to.

-

Cisco tries to come to the labs, just once.

Harry is just getting off a phone call when he hears Cisco outside, begging Lisa to let him in. 

It takes every ounce of strength in Harry's body to stay behind his doors. He presses himself against it to the door, just to hear the rasp of Cisco's words, try to catch a glimpse of his shape.

Lisa says she's sorry but can't let Cisco in, no matter how much she wants to. And she sounds like she wants to.

Harry hides until he doesn't hear Cisco pleading anymore. When he opens the door to see Cisco isn't there, his entire body aches.

Lisa apologizes for sending him away, but Harry thanks her. He doesn't need to see Cisco again. 

-

For the most part, it’s easy to hide in denial. 

Harry goes to work and comes home to dinner with Jesse where they discuss all the progress they’ve made that day. Sometimes he eats lunch with Lisa or with Snow and Raymond, carefully avoiding Cisco’s name. Every other morning he and Jesse run.

There are more charity functions. Harry tries to beg his way out of them. Jesse doesn’t want to go to them anymore and STAR is busier than ever. And he knows people will ask about Cisco. Where’s his charming date, will they have the pleasure of his company on the dance floor, is Harry going to grace them with another performance? 

Mayor Snart hosts a summer city thing, Harry doesn’t know, Harry doesn’t _care_ , but both Lisa and Jesse tell him it’s important he make an appearance. He’s become a figure in Central City again. Lisa goes as his date. Or he goes as hers, he isn’t clear. The night is a little less than miserable. 

Life just keeps _going._  It’s almost like all those months with Cisco never happened. All of that time, all of that care. Harry wants to let it go, but he doesn’t want all of it to have been a waste. To have been for nothing.

He still has their texts, all of Cisco's pictures, from the obscene to the last one he sent of his poor foot. Harry keeps them and tells himself it's just a reminder, to keep him aware of what he's learned.

Sometimes, when he scrolls through the photos alone, he can't quite say what lesson it is he took away from it all.

- 

A month passes. Harry doesn’t even realize it’s been a month until Jesse settles next to him with an iced tea and a determined look in her eyes.

“Daddy,” she says, too gently, putting Harry on the defense. “I’ve been trying to give you your space. And I can tell you’re in a better place than you were when I got here a month ago. So I think it’s time to talk.”

“Talk about what?” Harry asks, even though it’s obvious. “We talk everyday.”

“We talk about business. My internship. Our mile times. We haven’t talked about anything real in a while.”

“Those are real things.” 

Jesse rolls her eyes. He swears she didn’t used to do that as often as she does now. “We haven’t had a heart to heart. You still haven’t told me what happened with Cisco. How you’re really doing.”

“I’m really doing fine,” he says, harsher than he means, and turns back to his tablet. 

“Dad. I see you everyday. I know you’re not totally fine. But you don’t have to hide that from me. You can talk to me.” 

Harry tries to inhale calm. He doesn’t want to snap at Jesse. She’s sweet, and she loves him, and she’s just trying to be a good daughter. It’s his fault that she even feels she needs to offer him support. It should be the other way around. 

“There’s nothing to talk about, Quick. Now are you going to come to STAR for lunch tomorrow? Lisa keeps insisting you come to the lab for lunch.” 

“I don’t understand why you won’t talk to me,” Jesse says, frustrated. “You did before. I thought we were getting really close again. And now it’s like you just shut me out.”

“I’m not shutting you out. There's just nothing to talk about. So let's change the subject.”

“You never want to talk.” Jesse puts her tea on the coffee table with a clink. “I’m going to bed.”

“Jesse," he says, harsher than he means to be.

“You keep everything inside like no one can understand what goes on in that big brain of yours. Like no one’s worthy. Maybe that’s why Cisco said no to you. Maybe he was tired of feeling like that.” 

She looks shocked after she says it. Like she didn’t mean to give life to the words. But the meaning is real.

“I didn’t,” she starts, but he raises his hand.

“It’s fine.” When she opens her mouth again, he shakes his head. “It’s fine, Quick. Go to bed. I’ll wake you up for our run in the morning.” 

-

Cisco would’ve said yes to the date. If Harry had asked him, if the premise of their relationship had been real, he would’ve said yes. Harry never made him feel less than worthy. He knows it. 

Its after 12 when he gives in. He can’t sleep. The questions are killing him. Jesse’s words weren’t a mistake.

He wants Cisco’s voice. 

“Hello?” 

Harry forgets how to breathe for a second. Cisco’s sounds sleepy and warm. Harry can see him, feel the echo of him on his fingertips.

“Hello? Who is - what time is it.”  His breathing gets lower and Harry can tell he must be checking his phone to see who called him. When he brings the phone back, his voice is softer. “Harry?”

“You said you wanted to explain.” Harry’s voice sounds foreign to his own ears, thick and rasping. “So explain.”

“I - okay. Give me a second.”

But Harry can’t. “Here’s how this is going to go. I’m going to ask you a question, you’re going to give me an answer. Okay?”

“God I missed you,” Cisco breathes. It’s a tease but there’s enough truth to it that it hurts. “Okay.”

Harry gathers his curiosity, holds it to protect the flimsy cardboard of his chest. “Who’s Cindy?” 

“That’s your question?”

“Are you going to answer it?”

“Yeah. I was just surprised but - whatever. Nevermind. Cindy’s my best friend.”

Harry scoffs. “So your job was the only thing you lied about, right?”

“I deserve that,” Cisco says softly. “She wasn’t a client, obviously. But I do pretend to be her boyfriend. I wasn’t lying about her family. She just doesn’t pay me. Actually she mostly makes me buy stuff for her but. That’s not the point.” 

“How long have you been giving her the boyfriend experience?” Harry cuts in.

“Uh. Off and on for a couple of years. We met when I was in college and she was kind of the first real friend I ever had. So I’ve been playing boyfriend for a while. We break up a lot. Her parents don’t love me.”

Harry nods even realizing Cisco can’t see him. “Okay. When we ran into each other, did she know who I was?” 

Cisco is quiet. It’s enough of an answer.

“Did all your little friends know? Did anyone else?”

“Just Cindy and Barry, I swear. Barry knew because - you know. Cindy I told because she won’t let me not tell her things. And she always gives me the best advice.”

“What did she tell you to do?”

“First she told me not to be Barry’s stand in. But if he was late for another client he was going to get fired and Iris - he's loved her almost as long as he's been alive, man. I couldn’t let my bro down like that. Then Cindy told me that I should tell you the truth.”

“You should've listened to her.” 

“Yeah,” Cisco chuckles. “I honestly didn’t think I’d have to. I mean, after that first time, I didn’t think you’d call again. And every time you called after… I just thought you were going to figure it out. I didn’t think I was pulling it off very well.”

Harry thinks of those first meetings, how terrible he thought Cisco’s service was, how he couldn’t stay away regardless. “You weren’t. I thought you were the worst escort in Central City. I kept thinking about calling Mercury to get my money back.” 

“That was the other thing. I mean, I know rich people don’t check their bank accounts obsessively but you never checked to see how much I was charging. I thought you would at least look. See I never deposited any of your checks.”

“Yes. Well. Like I said, I have someone who takes care of that." It’s pathetic as far as excuses go, Harry knows. “I probably should’ve figured it out.”

“Nah,” Cisco says easily. “I’m pretty convincing.” 

Harry laughs. It feels real and warm. How long has it been since he laughed like this? “You really weren’t.” 

Cisco laughs, too.

Anger bites at him, sudden and quick. Why can’t he have this anymore? Why couldn't they have had this for real?

Because Cisco lied.

“That’s all I wanted to know,” Harry says quickly. He needs to get off the phone. 

“Really? You didn’t have any other questions? I figured you’d - I don’t know, you’d have a million.” 

Harry does, but he can’t ask them now. He can feel all the work he’s done to close himself back up start to crumble. If they keep talking, if Cisco asks to see him, he’s not sure he could say no.

“Those were the only nagging ones.”

“There’s nothing else?”

“What else would there be Cisco?” Harry asks. “There’s nothing else you can say. I know it all now. And nothing’s changed.”

“Oh.” Cisco sounds sadder, now, and Harry’s chest constricts. “I mean I didn’t think - it’s been a while. I figured since I didn’t hear from you that you needed time but I thought, with you calling, maybe you - ”

“Maybe I what? Forgave you for playing me for months?” 

“No. Maybe you wanted to try, though. At least.”

“I can’t,” Harry says. He won’t. “I have to go. I’m not planning on calling again.”

“Okay,” Cisco says. His voice is wet. “If that’s - if that’s what you want. I know I don’t get to ask for anything, here. But if you ever do want to call. Or text. Or need anything from me. I’ll answer, okay?”

Harry can’t respond. He wishes Cisco hadn’t even offered, because he doesn’t know if he’s really strong enough not to. He hangs up.

-

It takes a few days, but things settle between him and Jesse. Talking to Cisco, painful as it had been, put things into a little bit of a perspective. Everything between them may not have been real, but there was enough that was. Whatever Harry thought he had was lost. He doesn’t want to lose anything with Jesse.

They have breakfast at the club, then play tennis. Harry figures it’s as good of a time as any.

“I’m not telling you everything,” he starts. “Because you’re my daughter and that’s awkward. But I can tell you a little.”

“Okay.” 

“Cisco and I - he didn’t just come to a couple of fundraisers with me. We were. I don’t even know what to call it. But we.” God this feels ridiculous. “We cared about each other. And I wanted more.” 

Jesse looks hurt on his behalf. “And he didn’t?”

“He did.” She furrows her brow. “But he wasn’t exactly honest with me the entire time. He admitted it and. That was it.”

“What was it? Was there someone else?” Harry gives her the same look he used to when she would ask for a pony as a kid. “Okay. So that’s one of the things we’re not sharing. Is it totally unsalvageable?” 

“I can’t trust him. There’s nothing else we can do.”

Jesse nods and takes his hand. “So that’s why it’s so hard? You can’t just move on.”

“It’s getting easier. Especially with you here.” He cups her cheek. “But he was a part of my life for a while. And it - I feel it, still. I feel him not being around.” 

“Daddy.”

He takes a swig of his orange juice and ducks from her wounded look. “Let’s get on the court, okay?”

“Okay," she says, gentle. 

It's better between them again, after that. Painful and frankly embarrassing as it is, Harry keeps pushing how he feels out into the open. Instead of pushing her away, though, it brings her closer. 

Harry could almost thank Cisco for that.

-

Things go well, for a while.

He gets more used to the sharing thing. He tells Jesse when he has bad days and she helps him through. The bad days come less often, but he doesn’t stop feeling Cisco’s presence or Cisco’s memory. He doesn’t stop missing him.

Some days, he thinks they could re-build. He could forgive Cisco. He could do it if it meant having Cisco asleep in his bed again, if it meant Cisco bringing him lunch and whispering in his ear at all the idiotic functions he apparently has to attend now.

Most days, he tells himself they can’t. They shouldn’t.

Then things take a turn, starting when Jesse sets him up on a blind date.

He doesn’t want to hurt her feelings, but he doesn’t want to be set-up. She seems to think his almost relationships is a sign he’s ready to have someone to love in his life. But he doesn’t just want someone - he wants Cisco.

He does go on the date, though. It doesn’t go well.

First of all, the date is _Hartley Rathaway_. Harry’s first instinct is to punch him in the face for how upset he made Cisco the last time they saw each other. His second instinct is still to punch him in the face.

Harry takes a seat only so he can tell Jesse he put forth the effort. 

“I wasn't told I'd have the pleasure of dining with the great Dr. Wells tonight.”

“Rathaway. As charming as ever.” 

Hartley smiles and it's nothing like Cisco's. Harry tries to clamp down on the comparison.

“Where's your boy toy? He find a sugar daddy closer to death?”

“Well it was unpleasant seeing you. Goodbye.”

He moves to leave and Hartley reaches for him. He avoids Hartley grip with a glare.

Hartley holds up his hands in surrender. “Sorry. I - listen, we both have to eat, right? Stay.”

The kid actually looks pretty pathetic. Cisco made Harry so soft. He sits.

“Cisco is off topic or I leave for real.”

“Oh come on. It's the hottest gossip. No one’s seen him around and everyone's dying to know.” Hartley waits for an answer. Harry doesn't offer anything. Hartley squirms. “Nothing happened to him, right?”

“He's fine,” Harry says, thinking of how miserable Cisco sounded during their last phone call. “You seem awfully concerned about a man who you did nothing but insult.” 

“He was poking at a sore spot. I wasn't exactly out yet.”

“You weren't exactly subtle, either.”

Hartley smiles tightly. “I was subtle enough that my parents were still completely surprised when I came out.”

The waiter finally comes to take their orders. When she leaves, Hartley’s expression is still strained.

“I take it they didn't take it well. Your parents.” 

“Ten points to Ravenclaw. That's why I'm working at Stagg and not running my family's company the way I should be.”

Harry doesn't say he's sorry because he's really not. If Cisco was here, he would say something comforting and kind. Harry just doesn't say anything.

The rest of the dinner plays out in a similarly boring bordering on tense fashion. They talk a little business, a little tech. 

Hartley asks if he plays chess and Harry thinks of the one and only time he played with Cisco, who insisted on turning it into a game of strip chess. Harry doesn't remember who won, but he does remember Cisco wearing his socks when they fucked. It was the one thing he hadn't taken off. Harry tells Hartley he doesn't play.

After dinner, they split the check and Harry walks Hartley to the sidewalk.

“So. Have a nice night,” Harry says. He's going to have a serious discussion with Jesse about vetting when he gets home.

“Wait. That's it? You're not going to ask if you can come over for a nightcap?” 

“That was a very bad date,” Harry says slowly. “Did you not realize that?”

Hartley huffs. “Of course I did. But that doesn't really matter, does it?”

“Maybe to you it doesn't.”

Hartley tilts his head. “He really did a number on you, huh? Casual hookups with men you have nothing in common with can't fill the void anymore? That's just sad.”

Harry clenches his jaw. Because Hartley is right. Before Cisco, this would've been exactly what he was looking for. It was exactly what he was looking for. Now it's nearly laughable how little satisfaction he’d find.

If this is all that's out here, maybe he should work on forgiving Cisco. Harry doesn't think he's going to find anyone else like him and it's not in Harry's nature to settle. 

“If you ever decide you want to work for a company that will let you do more than what you're doing at Stagg, give my office a call. Otherwise I'd appreciate never hearing from you again.” 

At home, Harry tells Jesse she's never allowed to set him up. 

- 

After the disaster of the date, things only get worse.

He finally sees Cisco. It's a Saturday afternoon and he and Jesse are shopping for the week. He spots Cisco holding two cantaloupes in his hands. His friend Barry is with him, knocking on the cantaloupes and holding his ear to them like he can hear the ocean.

Harry thinks he's going to die.

His heart slams against his chest like a dog running head first into glass, hungry and sloppy and dumb. Cisco looks stupidly beautiful in a pair of ripped jeans and a loud printed t-shirt. His hair is down and soft and his eyes are framed by bright colored glasses. 

Then Cisco meets his eyes across the aisle. And he smiles. 

Harry doesn't run out but it's close. Jesse has to call him from the frozen food section. All he can say is that he _saw him_. Jesse leaves their basket and they head home.

A dozen times Harry picks up his phone. He types out a series of texts ranging from _Well that was awkward_ to _You looked ridiculous today_ to _Jesse set me up on a blind date with Hartley and I know what hell will be like_. 

Then he types out _I miss you._ He deletes it and writes three separate times. He doesn't send it.

The whole encounter leaves him heart sick. He has to drag himself into the office on Monday. Hartley has already called about a job and Harry doesn't even know why he offered, but tells Lisa to set up the interview.

Jesse visits for lunch and Lisa invites them to Monday Trivia Madness at Java Joe’s. Snow and Raymond join in. Harry gives them a list of excuses that Jesse steamrolls with a pout. 

Harry does not like Monday Trivia Madness. There are so many _people_ and they're all so stupid Harry wants to throw his sugar packets at them. He thinks he sees Cisco there, too, but it's just a girl with similar hair and pants. 

Jesse has fun, though, and they're told they have a standing invitation.

The next day, Harry's over the initial shock of seeing Cisco again. He's settled into the bone deep yearning that he thought he'd overcome weeks ago but apparently hadn't.

He's irritable all day. He's short with Lisa and Snow and Oliver when he calls. He's even shorter with Eiling.

Then, the world falls apart.

Grodd escapes.

-

Apparently Snow and Park weren't just having stress delusions when they said Grodd spoke to them. One of the other team members says Grodd told him to let him out and he just did it. He couldn't stop himself.

Grodd destroyed the lab where they were working on the GEOS Project, nearly taking two techs out with all the equipment. He freed the other gorillas.

Harry almost wishes Grodd had just taken STAR down - him, too. It would've been easier than dealing with the ensuing nightmare.

It only takes a few hours for press and police to join the flurry of distraught employees. Lisa writes statement after statement as well as a speech for him to deliver that's all fluff and no admitting to fault. Harry thinks people will hate it but the press and popular opinion remain even between labeling him a menace to the city and not really giving a fuck, so he considers the whole PR strategy a success.

Only an hour after that, Eiling storms his office. Lisa is trailing behind him. 

“Sir, Dr. Wells isn't taking any meetings right now - ”

“It's alright, Lisa.” Harry rolls his chair back from his desk but doesn't stand. “What can I do for you, General?”

“I've wanted to punch the smug off your face before, but never as much as I've wanted to right now. How do you lose a damn gorilla?” 

“I told you there were complications with the first serum.”

Eiling slams two palms on his desk. “I think you'd better expand on those complications, Doc.”

“The aggression I told you about. However there were other side effects, including, apparently, telepathy and mind control.” Harry shrugs to hide the pounding of his heart.

“Telepathy and mind control? And you let that monster get loose?”

“He's just as much your creation as mine, General. And I didn't _let_ him do anything but I am doing everything in my power to track him and the other subjects down.”

“Not anymore you're not,” Eiling snaps. He stands at straight attention. “As of right now, the US Army is handling this. We'll find the subjects.”

“And bring them back here?” Eiling narrows his eyes and Harry matches his glare. “What exactly are you going to do then?”

“Dispose of them before they hurt anyone else. Like you should've done in the first place.”

“You can't do that,” Harry argues, panic pulling him out of his chair. “You have no right. Those are subjects of STAR Labs. You can't - ”

“You're operating under our contract, so yes, I do have the right.”

“Then the contract is over.”

Eiling rears back like he really is going to throw a punch and a Harry tenses. Instead Eiling just curls his fists at his sides.

“You can't just say it's over. We had a deal, Wells.” 

“Actually, he can,” Lisa says, still lingering in the doorway. “I took the liberty of reading over your contract, which I’m sure you did too, General. So you know both parties reserve the right to sever this relationship should it stop being productive for either.”

Eiling clearly didn't know that. Harry didn't, either. He wonders if Lisa is making it up.

“Our contract ends, so does our funding. And we’ll expect it back. The government doesn't give away money for companies to do business as usual.”

Lisa fixes him with an even glare. “First of all, the government literally does do that. Second of all, there's a reason we've been getting the funds in installments. We won't be getting any of the future funds but we don't owe any, either.”

That Harry does know is true. Eiling looks between them, growing more furious with each glance. Harry crosses his arms. Lisa smiles. 

Eiling storms out without another word.

“Sorry I couldn't keep him out.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You were amazing.” He leans against the desk and scrubs a hand over his face. “You think you can shut down a gorilla uprising as quick as you shut down Eiling?” 

Lisa doesn't answer. “Can Grodd really control minds?”

Harry nods.

“You think that's something you should mention to the detective?”

Harry shakes his head.

“Dr. Wells.”

“Fine,” Harry sighs. “Send him in.”

-

“So let me make sure I have all of this straight,” Detective Joe West says. “The giant ass gorilla that escaped was actually a subject of a secret government experiment to genetically engineer and override soldiers' own free will. Those experiments gave him the ability to read and control minds. He got out and took a bunch of other giant ass gorillas who are extra susceptible to orders with him. And now they're running all over my city.”

Harry looks to Snow and Lisa who flank him on either side. “That's pretty much the jist of it,” he says.

The Detective looks unimpressed. “I'm not sending Central City's finest after an angry monkey that can control their mind.”

“Don't send the finest, then. Send the second finest.”

“Dr. Wells,” Lisa says, gripping his shoulder.

“I'd like to help,” Dr. Snow says. “I feel responsible for Grodd. And maybe I can get through to him.”

Harry's cell rings for probably the thirtieth time. He hasn't turned it off in case Jesse calls again. He told her to stay safe and sit tight at Stagg's.

“Oh no, please answer your personal calls. We've got this planet of the apes situation under control,” Detective West says as Harry wrestles his phone out of his pocket.

And freezes.

Cisco's name is on the caller ID. Harry gapes, heart pounding, before forcing himself to ignore it.

“Who was that?” Lisa asks.

Harry would lie but he doesn't think he'd get away with it. There's no real point, anyway. “Cisco.”

Detective West leans forward in his seat. “Not Cisco Ramon? Why would he be calling you?”

Before Harry can answer, Snow says, “You don't think Grodd… Cisco was with us the day he went wild the first time.”

Fear grips Harry the same way it did that day. It's unlikely. But Cisco hasn't called him since that first week. He's respected Harry up until now.

“Call him back,” Lisa urges. Harry already has his phone out.

The tension in the room sits heavy on Harry's chest. He doesn't know how Detective West knows and cares for Cisco but at this point Harry's not surprised.

Cisco answers on the first ring. “Oh thank God, Harry. I just got an alert on my phone about Grodd and then you didn't pick up and Lisa and Caitlin didn't pick up and I thought - I thought - ”

“Breathe, Cisco.” Harry lets out his own breath of relief. Cisco's not controlled by Grodd. Not in danger. “I'm okay. We're all okay. And you're okay?”

“Yes. No crazy ass gorilla nonsense on this side of town. I was just scared out of my damn mind.”

“Everything's fine. We have Central City's finest out looking for Grodd. Just. Just stay at your place, okay? Unless you have an underground bunker. Don't go out. Keep yourself safe.”

“I have to check on my parents - ”

“That's why we have phones, Cisco.” Harry knows he's yelling but he can't help it. Cisco is still so far under his skin the thought of losing him again feels like bones breaking. “Now is not the time for you to play hero or anything, okay? Stay put.” 

“Fine,” Cisco huffs. “But you better be taking your own advice, Harry. If I see on the news you got killed by a gorilla I swear to God I'm gonna kill you.”

Detective West is watching Harry expectantly. Harry wants to keep Cisco on the phone, keep him close so he knows he's safe. But that's not helping anyone.

“I have to go. But I'm serious. Stay inside.”

“Wait. Before you go. Do you have any leads on where Grodd could be?”

“Cisco. Whatever you're thinking, stop. Leave this up to us.”

“I'm not going to hunt him down or anything. Christ. I was just thinking. If I was the size of a large truck and I wanted to get around the city unnoticed. Where would I go.” 

Harry looks at Detective West. Of course. It's so obvious, of course. “The sewers,” Harry says. Detective West pulls up his walkie.

“The sewers,” Cisco echoes. “I mean it's just a thought but - "

“No. That's. That's good, Ramon.”

“Good. Glad to help. I'll let you go so you can, you know, save the city. I'll - well, I won't call you back I guess.” 

“Ramon.” Harry doesn't know what to say. He wants Cisco to call back. He wants - he _wants_ -

“I know I have no business asking. I don't deserve it. But when you find Grodd, and everything's settled, would you mind - you don't have to call me. But just let me know that everyone is alright.”

He's right; Cisco has no business asking but Harry doesn't want to be cruel. Not to Cisco. 

“I can do that.”

“Thank you,” Cisco says, whisper soft.

“I have to go.”

“Right. Yeah. Be safe. Good luck.”

-

Grodd is in the sewers.

The first CCPD wave against him doesn't stand a chance. It's Harry's fault. He sends them in without a thought about how to fight Grodd. They have tranquilizers and shields and training. He thinks they'll be fine.

They're not.

Whoever Grodd doesn't injure he keeps underground with him, including Detective West. The man has a daughter not much older than Jesse. He told Harry all about her when he told Harry how important Cisco is to her and her boyfriend, to his son. And he's in the hands of a monster Harry made. Harry practically hand delivered him.

He doesn't want to burden Jesse. As much as Lisa and Snow offer their support, as much as even Oliver says he wants to help from Starling City, none of them have what he needs to fix this.

He calls Cisco.

It's awkward how natural it feels to work through the chaos with him to find a plan. Cisco talks him through building an anti-mind control head piece that looks like something out of a cheap sci fi movie. They don't know if it will work until someone actually puts it on in front of Grodd, but Cisco evaluates their chances at 73%. It's better than nothing.

Harry tries to be the one to go in. Lisa and Snow refuse and Cisco yells at everyone over the phone. Harry hangs up on him but he just starts calling Lisa, who won't keep him off speaker phone.

They don't understand, because they're too young, the responsibility Harry has. Even if it costs him, whatever he reaps will be what he's sown.

He doesn't understand, they echo. What he means to Central City and to STAR Labs. How he's an inspiration to all of them. That he's too important to throw himself on the sword. 

An officer, Eddie something, volunteers. Lisa only swoons a little over him. Then Raymond volunteers too, then a few others. Harry knocks out some more devices. The team at the labs, and Cisco on speaker, walkie with them through what sounds like a pretty harrowing battle. 

In the end, they make it. Everyone comes home. The cops, Raymond, the other gorillas. Grodd is the only one who doesn't survive.

The end of the phone call with Cisco feels solemn and final. Harry feels so exhausted, so weak. All the fear and humiliation and guilt twist him into an ugly knot that he knows Cisco could smooth.

He doesn't ask for Cisco to pick up his pieces. He can't.

- 

After Grodd comes another wave of PR nightmares. There's press hounding Lisa about what STAR Labs was really doing with the military and if there are any other monsters they should be worried about.

Hartley calls Lisa to cancel his interview. There's only so much scandal he can be associated with in one year. Harry's not particularly disappointed.

Stagg’s secretary - a true sextretary if Harry ever spoke to one - calls to tell him personally Jesse's internship will not be continuing. They can't be associated with the Wells.

Jesse puts on a brave face. Says she didn't like it there anyway. But her eyes are red. Harry wants to burn Stagg - the company and the man himself - to the ground. Then she tells him the summer is almost over, anyway, and she'd rather spent it at STAR.

It warms his ice picked ego. He still plots revenge on Jesse's behalf. He just won't tell her about it.

When Lisa buzzes to tell him Oliver Queen is on the phone, he doesn't want to take it. He knows what Queen is going to say. Their partnership is through, he's sorry, but Queen Consolidated can't be associated with this mess.

He takes the call.

“Dr. Wells. Are you alright? The news said no one in the labs was injured. But I don't trust the news.”

“I'm alright. Your concern is unnecessary.” Harry waits for the bomb then decides to yank its wires for himself. “I imagine you're calling about the collaboration between STAR and Queen Consolidated.”

“I'm calling because I thought you might be hurt. Or your ego may have been bruised. Either way, that you might like to talk to someone who can relate.”

“I don't. Need that.” Harry doesn't, really, but the offer isn't completely obnoxious. A Cisco sounding voice in his head says _aww_. “But thank you.”

“You're welcome.” 

There's a heavy pause and Harry knows his initial instincts were still correct. “If you did need to talk about the collaboration too, though, I would understand.”

“The board called a meeting today. The majority voted that we should back out of the deal.”

Harry wants to tell him to fight it, but he’s never had a board to answer to. He probably wouldn’t do well with one.

“But screw the board.” A cough is shocked out of Harry. “I mean, not really. I can’t exactly just go against them. But I told them what’s been happening the last few days isn’t a true picture of what STAR is about. I reminded them that your company, that you, have always been the industry standard for innovation. And that maybe we didn’t really have room to talk about controversial contracts.”

“You. What? Why would you stick your neck out like that?”

“Because I believe in what we’re trying to do together,” Oliver says, easy. “And the mission of STAR Labs. And because I respect you. I’m not going to pretend I know what happened or that I think it was all ethical, but friends don’t persecute each other for mistakes. We help each other move on.”

“Friends.” The word weighs heavy and foreign on Harry’s tongue.

“Did you not realize we’ve become friends?”

No. “I was under the impression we were business partners. Cisco was - is your friend.”

“He is,” Oliver says, gentle as if not to bruise him. “But Cisco isn’t who I agreed to go into business with. I think he made you a better man. But you’re the one who built the labs and built your legacy. You’re the one I’m proud to work with.”

Harry doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t speak for a long time.

“I still think you two will work out it, by the way. You’re too good together. I mean, he’s too good for you in general, but I think you’ll find each other again.”

“Well thank you for that sage advice. But it’s not - that’s not really what I want to discuss.”

“Right. My apologies.” 

And they move on.

- 

It's nearly 10 when Lisa comes into Harry's office looking as exhausted as he feels. He hadn't even realized she was still here.

“We've been here for over 12 hours. I don't think we're going to get much more done today. Wouldn't you rather be spending your night with Jesse?”

There are only three more weeks of summer. Of course Harry wants to spend every moment he can with her.

“She's spending the night with her friends.”

“So you're going to spend your night here?”

“You're welcome to leave.”

“How about a compromise. We both stay and drink that glad you didn't get killed by a gorilla whiskey Oliver Queen sent you.”

Harry doesn't usually do compromises, but getting drunk actually sounds excellent right now.

“That sounds fair.”

About halfway down the bottle, he and Lisa slur into a game of truth or dare that actually involves Harry laughing until his side aches. Eventually Lisa lands on the one thing he doesn't want to talk about.

“I dare you to tell me what happened with Cisco.” Harry takes a swig directly from the bottle because he's not trying to impress anyone here. “You guys were so good together. You saved the world. Lives.”

“Lives that I endangered in the first place.” Jesse and the team may have forgiven him but the city hasn't. He hasn't forgiven himself.

“If you really don't want to talk about it, okay. You'll feel better though. I could just dare you to draw mustaches on all of Caity’s pictures.”

Which sounds hilarious. But Harry does actually want to talk about it. Say it out loud and have someone else tell him he can't let Cisco back in - not that he's really let Cisco go. The betrayal and rage have started to fade but his desire for Cisco is as strong as ever. He doesn't know how much longer he can fight it on his own.

So he tells her everything, from start to finish. How they met, how Cisco smoothed his way under Harry's skin, how Harry thought it was the real deal and nearly asked for it. How Cisco tried to tell him the truth and eventually did.

When he's scraped it all out, scratched every last remaining ache from his ribs, he feels inside out. Off balance. But a little lighter, too. A little better.

Lisa hasn't said a word.

“Well?” he prompts. “Isn't this when you tell me I deserve someone I can trust and that there are other fish in the sea?”

“I'm sorry. I'm still stuck on you thinking  Cisco was an escort.”

Harry crosses his arms. “He misrepresented himself. It wasn't my fault." 

“He brought a _backpack_ to your first meeting.”

“I didn't say I thought he was a _good_ escort.” Harry swipes the bottle back from her. “And I carry a backpack.”

“Exactly.” She swipes the bottle right back and sets it aside. “But you're right. You do deserve someone you can trust. And there are plenty of other fish in the sea.”

Hearing Lisa actually say the words isn't as validating as Harry thought it would be. It actually pisses him off. Cisco isn't a fish. If he was he'd be a mermaid or something. There's no one else like him swimming around. And even if there was, Harry doesn't want them. 

“I think I'm drunk.” Harry cradled his head in his hands. “I don't want to think about swimming. It's making me queasy." 

“Well there are plenty of other people. None exactly like him though.”

“No,” Harry agrees.

“Listen, I'm not really the girl to give relationship advice. I've let a lot of liars back into my life when I shouldn't have. But you trusted him the other day. When you needed someone to help you save those people, you called him. You have a literal building full of geniuses and Cisco is the one you went to.”

Harry could argue Cisco was the best option but Harry doesn't even know if that's true. The bomb was about to blow and Harry handed the wires over to Cisco without a second thought. 

“There's one question I learned to ask myself. To keep the assholes out of my life." 

“What?” Harry asks.

Lisa takes a last gulp then screws the cap back on. Drama queen.

She fixes him with an even gaze. “Do you think he'll lie to you again?”

“I don't know,” Harry says, but as soon as she asks the question the answer reverberates inside him.

-

The press keep hounding, but Lisa is becoming pretty proficient in battling them. With the GEOS project done and the accelerator in stasis, he has a staff to direct and time to fill.

It's good. Kind of. His stomach is in knots but he's the master of his own fate again, no deadlines or general or insistent desire to answer to.

Jesse spends her last few weeks at Harry's side, where she should be. She drags him out of work for runs and tennis and shopping trips. They go to Monday trivia and a movie with Lisa. Snow takes Jesse to a dress fitting because girls do that kind of thing, apparently.

Harry thinks about Lisa's question.

They go to a Farmer’s Market that smells like hippies so Jesse can get some sort of organic soap. Harry thinks he sees Cisco and doesn't have the urge to melt into the core of the earth. It’s not Cisco.

 _Do you think he'll lie to you again?_  

Oliver keeps in touch with him. The board is watching him closely but are apparently pleased with how he's handled the press and his new projects. Oliver and Felicity ask him to schedule some time for dinner next time they're in the city.

Harry doesn't need Cisco there, but he wants him. To smooth the conversation and make it worth his while later. His gut clenches for half a second at the thought of sharing his business with Cisco again, but Lisa was right. Harry already trusted him with it again. He doesn't have much hesitation at the idea of doing it again.

_Do you think he'll lie to you again._

The day Jesse goes back to school, Harry holds it together surprisingly well. He doesn't cry or make anyone else cry although he is a little harsher than he needs to be with the kid who takes his order at Big Belly Burger.

He keeps going to trivia although he doesn't make it every week. He has dinner with Oliver and Felicity and wishes desperately Cisco was there to roll his eyes at whenever they share loving looks. 

The weather starts to turn. Harry wonders about Cisco's fall wardrobe.

Jesse asks for some family photos for a project. She's not particularly sentimental, which she got from him, but he tells her to keep them when he does.

Looking over the albums, Harry can pinpoint exactly when he and Tess were in the middle of a fight. It's funny now. It was always funny after the fact. He barely remembers half of what they fought about. But he remembers he almost always gave in first. 

He was always weak for her, like he's weak for Jesse now. It feels like a betrayal to them when his fingers itch to tell Cisco to meet him at the track, when it's late and he's tired and just wants Cisco to touch his spine and smile. To be weak against someone else. Even if Jesse thinks it's good for him. 

He knows what Tess would think. What she would tell him. _Don't be an idiot, Harrison._

They loved and hurt each other all the time. Tess could tear him apart like no one else. Cisco's lies don't degrade his affection. 

Harry sends Jesse the pictures, but doesn't put the albums away. He leaves them out for the first time in years.

- 

The next time he goes into work, there's a wrapped gift on Lisa's desk.

He raises an eyebrow. "Why Mrs. Snart. You shouldn't have."

"It's not from me. And it's not for you."

Harry looks at the card beneath the ribbon to see Snow and Raymond's name. It's Cisco's handwriting. He's know that chicken scratch anywhere.

"There's a note," Lisa says gently, pushing another envelope to him.

"What does it say?"

"I didn't read it."

Harry takes it to his office. He debates not reading it for a full minute before realizing he's just kidding himself.

_Harry - just in case you didn't get a chance to get Caitlin and Ronnie a gift. I hope you're taking care of yourself._

Harry scrubs a hand over his face and admits it, if only to himself. He can get over the pain of Cisco's actions. He's had years of practice.

It's the pain of not having Cisco at all he doesn't think he can handle.

-

Harry isn't quite prepared to turn his aching into action, answer Lisa's question in any final way, not out loud, but the randomness of the natural universe doesn't give a fuck about what his heart can deal with.

He's buying popcorn to sit through some superhero movie Jesse is watching miles away. Tomorrow morning he's supposed to call her so they can trade notes. When he turns around, snacks in hand, Cindy is standing directly behind him.

“Harry,” she says, glossy lips spread in a deceptively sweet smile. “What a coincidence running into you. Long time no see.”

Harry glances around her in a heart panic. 

“Cisco isn't here.”

Disappointment and relief grab him with equal force.

Cindy must read it, because she quickly adds, “In line, I mean. He's holding our seats. I'm on snack duty.” She twirls a card between her fingers. Harry would bet it’s Cisco's. 

“Oh,” is all Harry manages to say. The last time he physically saw Cisco he ran away. Things have shifted but he hasn't interacted with Cisco since Grodd. As much as he wants to, his new bed are alight. 

“I kind of need to order. Cisco gets cranky if you make him wait for candy.”

That's true. Harry sidesteps and feels more awkward than he ever has as Cindy orders the entirety of the snack options. He could just leave. Jesse would forgive him.

“So.” Cindy looks him up and down. “Have you been as miserable as Cisco has since you stopped fucking?”

The girl scooping popcorn nearly drops the bucket on the floor. Cindy flashes her a smile that's all charm.

“That's not an appropriate question for a stranger.” She watches him expectantly. “And I've been just fine.”

“Well that makes one of you.”

Harry shifts. “That's not my fault.”

“I agree with you.” She leans against the counter. “I told him to tell you. Actually, I told him not to cover for Barry in the first place, because, I mean, why? But he should've told you. He just - he's a jackass when it comes to relationships.”

“The jackass defense," Harry laughs. "I've got to use that one.” 

“I'm not making excuses for him,” she says and the playfulness is gone. “He fucked up. But he does know it. He's been paying for it.”

Harry knows. He's heard it in Cisco's voice. Even if he hadn't, he knows Cisco enough to know the heartache he caused himself.

“Being sorry doesn't fix anything,” Harry says, mostly to himself.

Cindy shrugs. “Maybe not. But you're doing just fine, right? Doesn't matter to you either way how Cisco's doing.” 

Harry clenches his jaw and he knows Cindy reads his anger. She smiles like she's won something. Then she takes the drink carrier from the counter and tilts her head.

“Aren't you gonna help me carry this? Cisco said you were a gentleman.”

“He did not.” Harry hesitates.

“It would do him good to see you. Even if it's just for a second.”

Maybe Harry can do a second. Maybe that's part of the bridge he needs. 

Cindy adds his drink to the carrier then piles his arms full. He doesn't realize she's not carrying anything until they're walking towards the screening room.

“Usually when someone helps you, it means you're also doing some of the work.” 

“I'm going to open the door. That's critical.” She does grab a bag of skittles before she opens the door. “We’re in the third row.” 

Harry hesitates again and she nudges his shoulder with her palm.  

The walk to the third row feels three miles long. Harry's guts keep trying to wrap around his tongue and he can feel sweat at his temple. He's a mess. Christ.

Cisco is the only one in the row. All the nerves and the anger and the fear twists into _ache_. Just seeing the back of Cisco's head makes Harry's body buzz. 

When he comes closer, he doesn't know what to say. He turns only to realize Cindy isn't behind him anymore. She isn't anywhere. 

Cisco finally looks up from his phone. His eyes go comically wide. 

“Harry?” he says, squinting like Harry might be a mirage.

“Hi.” Harry swallows around what feels like a fistful of gravel in his throat.

“Hi.” Cisco shifts in his chair. His chest rises and falls a little faster. He looks like he's going to get up then settles back down. “Hey. Hi. Harry. I didn't expect to see you. Like, ever. But it's nice. It's good to see you. Hi.” 

Harry feels as weird as Cisco is acting. He doesn't know what to say and the snacks are starting to feel awkward in his arms. 

“How are, you know, things,” Cisco says before biting his lip. “Oh my God. I haven't been this awkward since I was 12 and wore braces. I want to die. Please kill me.” 

“My hands are kinda full.”

“I can see that.” Cisco stands up. “Do you want me to go? I can totally go. I know the last time we talked was - I thought it was pretty okay but I get it if you still don't wanna see me. And I still don't blame you. I can grab Cindy and we can just. Not be around you. If that's what you want.”

Harry is pretty sure that isn't what he wants but the words stick in his throat. What he manages is, “I think Cindy ditched you.”

Cisco blinks. He takes a closer look at all the snacks in Harry's hands.

“She tricked me into carrying these then took the skittles and. I don't know. Disappeared.”

“She took the skittles?”

Harry nods.

“That dick.”

Harry nods again. “The rest of this is for you.”

Cisco still looks distraught, but he offers his arms. “Sorry dude. I'll take that. She shouldn't have - she can be kind of a jackass.”

It takes a little team work to get all the drinks and food settled into the chair next to Cisco. Harry ends up on the other side, only snacks and what feels like a universe of regret between them.

“This is weird,” Cisco says.

“Yes.”

“I can find her. Or I can sit somewhere else. Or you can sit somewhere else. Or - anything. Whatever you need.”

Harry isn't sure what he needs but he knows what he wants. "I can sit next to you at a movie, Ramon. I'm an adult. I think I can handle it.”

Cisco doesn't look convinced in the least. He looks wary and skittish and keeps glancing around for Cindy.

“This is fine," Harry says. "Unless you're not fine.”

“I'm fine. I'm the definition of fine. I just - last time we talked, you said it would be the last time.” The misery that soaks him when they've spoken on the phone is now in 3D, in color, and Harry has to look away from it. He can still hear the sadness when Cisco adds, “I didn't think I would get to see you again.”

The lights go down. Harry doesn't change seats. He can feel Cisco watching him and tries his best to ignore it. He can get through this. He knew he would have to see Cisco again, especially if he wanted Cisco back, and now is as good a time as any to get the initial awkwardness out of the way.

“Do you want a nerd rope?” Cisco whispers.

Harry realizes he's been digging his nails into the armrests and forces himself to relax.

“No,” he whispers back.

“Any raisenettes?”

“I have my own snacks.”

“Twizzlers?”

“Shh,” a man in front of them hisses, finger to his mouth.

Cisco makes a face. “It's just the previews dude. Chill.”

The man does the shushing motion again. Cisco sticks out his tongue.

Harry can't believe this is the man he's chosen to trust himself with.

The movie is fine. He and Cisco laugh when other people don't. Whenever anything scientifically preposterous happens Harry leans over to whisper why it wouldn't work. Cisco tells him to suspend his disbelief but still listens to everything Harry has to say. They are shushed an infinite number of more times until Harry throws popcorn at the guy. Cisco puts his palm over his mouth to keep from laughing. Harry has missed that sound.

It's as easy as anything was before Harry knew Cisco had been lying to him. Their chemistry hasn't changed. Even if Harry's edges feel sharper the two of them still _fit_.

All Harry has to do now is decide. Can he forgive, can they rebuild. He wants to be able to. He wants it all back.

After the movie, Cindy is still nowhere to be found. She doesn't answer when Cisco calls her.

“She wouldn't have just left,” Harry says.

“Uh, yeah she would've. She's ditched me before. Usually it's payback for ditching her but I at least have good excuses. Most of the time anyway.”

They make their way outside, into the living breathing city. Harry welcomes the warmth of the air. He and Cisco stop moving at the same time, held in each other's orbits. 

“So. That was really nice,” Cisco says.

“And really weird.”

Cisco laughs. “Really, really weird. But nice. Right? That wasn't just me?”

“No,” Harry admits. “It wasn't just you.”

Cisco smiles. It's small and soft but warm as always. Harry could melt into it.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Harry asks, not quite ready to let Cisco go for the night.

“Always the gentleman, Harry.” Cisco grins. It fades as quickly as it came. “Actually Cindy was kind of my ride. So I need to catch a cab. Hopefully I won't be picked up by an axe murderer.”

“Do you.” Harry looks away. Is he really ready for more than this? “I could give you a ride.”

“You could,” Cisco agrees slowly. “And not that I wouldn't love for you to give me a ride - and I really didn't mean for that to sound as sexual as it did - but are you sure? I can get a cab. You don't have to offer just to be nice.”

“Because that's something I would do,” Harry says dryly. He's trying very hard to not think about the last time he had Cisco riding him, spread out on his lap, hair and eyes wild, grin breathless.

“Yeah. You got me there, I guess. Thanks.”

-

The drive to Cisco's isn't awkward. It isn't not awkward. But after the tension and Harry's rage and the strange, shifting plane they ended on, the silence between them is still mostly peaceful. Easy as it's ever been.

Cisco fiddles with his radio until Harry slaps his hand away. Then Cisco shifts his attention to texting Cindy - _I'm going to tell her I was stranded and died because she's a douchebag_ \- who responds with some haloed emoticon that Harry's never seen Cisco use.

By the time they get to Cisco's condo, Harry's nerves have fizzled into sparks as opposed to volcanic eruptions. A loose sort of plan has formed in his mind.

Cisco derails it with a small smile. “Do you wanna come up for coffee? As thanks. For not abandoning me in my time of need." 

“It's after 11, Ramon.”

“It's not like I'm gonna sleep tonight,” Cisco says. He's looking straight through Harry when their eyes meet. “Are you?”

No. He isn't.

“If it's too weird, I get it. Or if you decided to go back to the never talking to me never seeing me again thing, which I also get, just tell me to get out, Ramon.”

Harry grips the steering wheel. He's been thinking about this, asking himself if he can open the doors for Cisco when the man had just broken down the house, trying to reconcile the ache of betrayal with the ache of not having Cisco at all.

Maybe the time for hypotheticals and running data is over. Maybe the time for the real experiment is here.

“I could have a cup,” Harry says.

- 

Cisco's apartment is different than Harry remembers. He doesn't know if the space has changed or he has, but it feels foreign now. New.

He follows Cisco to the bar and takes a seat, watching Cisco open cabinets and pull little packs of coffee. It's the most domestic he's ever seen Cisco, other than the brief flirtation Cisco had with his kitchen. Harry can see it like a vision: he and Cisco bumping shoulders while they put dinner together, washing dishes, watching to make sure Cisco doesn't dump half a box of sugar into his coffee.

“I have french vanilla, hazelnut, pumpkin spice - don't judge me, okay - and mocha.” 

Harry blinks the fantasy away. “I just want regular coffee.” 

Cisco stares at him flatly. “I have french vanilla, hazelnut - ”

“Hazelnut, then,” Harry says.

Cisco pops the pack into his Kuerig. Then he turns to Harry, lip caught between his teeth. Harry wants to suck it between his own. 

“So.” Cisco leans against the other side of the bar. “This is awkward. Mostly because  I didn't think I'd see you here again.”

“Didn't think I'd be coming back here," Harry admits.

“Why did you?”

The serious line of Cisco's face catches Harry off guard. “You invited me up,” he says, defensive. 

“No, I know. I mean. The last time you saw me in person you ran away. The last time we talked on the phone you told me it would be the last time, that you couldn't with me. But you didn't run away tonight. What changed?”

Harry looks at his own hands and tries to grasp the words. He's gotten a lot closer to forgiving. But he hasn't forgotten - and that includes all the good as well as the bad, all the gentle and hot and soft.

The coffee beeps. Harry watches Cisco fix it for him and his stupid heart skips a beat. 

“Lisa asked me something a few weeks ago,” Harry says, taking his cup. “About you. If I thought you would lie to me again.” 

Cisco's breath catches. “I wouldn't - ” He stops himself. Harry can see the gears grinding. He pushes his hair behind his ears. “What was your answer?”

“No,” Harry says. He swallows his coffee to melt the lump in his throat. “No, I don't think you would.”

He believes it, and he knows it changes things. He even thinks it changes enough. 

“Why didn't you tell me?” Harry asks. It's the one question he hasn't posed and the last answer he needs. 

Cisco scrubs a hand over his face. “I wanted to. I tried. But I knew what would happen and I just couldn't - I didn't want to lose you.”

Harry stays silent as Cisco gets his own cup and comes around the bar. He approaches Harry warily, like he's afraid to spook Harry away.

“When I told Barry I would help him out, it wasn't just to be a bro. I haven't had the greatest relationship luck lately.”

Harry thinks about Dante checking to make sure he's taking better care of Cisco than the last guy. 

“I pick the wrong people. The last girl I dated broke up with me because she had some vision that this douchebag she met was her _soulmate_ and my last boyfriend...” Cisco shakes his head. “I'm a firm believer that you can't trust anyone who says their ex was crazy, but he was crazy. Like thought he was a time traveler from the future with speed powers crazy.” 

“That's. Pretty crazy,” Harry admits. He watches Cisco mess with his hair again and wants to reach out, hold Cisco's hands in his, calm Cisco down. It still rattles him to see Cisco rattled.

“I thought it would be easier to just… not be me for a while. To just hook up and have fun. And when I met you... I mean I never thought you'd call me for a second date. And that was fine. It was perfect.” 

“I wasn't planning on it,” Harry admits. “Calling you again. You weren't at all up to my expectations.”

Cisco laughs, a little calmer, and Harry feels the familiar warmth unfurl at knowing he's the one who eased Cisco's nerves.

“Yeah, I got that. But it was cool. It was exciting, you know? Being someone else with someone like you. You were brilliant and demanding and it was fun. Until suddenly it wasn't.”

He turns to face Harry, hands up. “Not that you stopped being brilliant or fun. It was me. I felt like I was getting to know you but you couldn't get to know the real me and I wanted you to. I wanted you to know everything and still want me, the way I started wanting you. For real.”

Theoretically, Harry knew all of this. But the weight of it is sturdier coming from Cisco's lips. Harry can see all of that desperate, honest want on his face. It settles like an anchor in his chest, calming. 

“When I came here the first time, I was going to ask you out,” Harry admits, burning from the inside out with embarrassment. If Cisco is going to put it all out on the table, though, then Harry should too.

“On a date?” Harry rolls a glare at him. “Shit. I feel like such a dick. Like I've been wallowing in how much of an ass I was but. You planned a date? That's so fucking sweet.”

Harry feels heat creep up his neck. “It wasn't. Don't. I'm not sweet.” 

Cisco rests his cheek on his fist, focusing his fondness on Harry like a laser that cuts through skin, muscle, bone.

“What was it?” Cisco asks. 

Harry stares into his coffee. “Nothing. It was stupid. Just a picnic on the beach. Not a big deal.”

“Oh my God, that's so cute.” Cisco grips his hair. “I'm the worst.” 

“Cute,” Harry repeats, squirming. “No one’s ever called me cute.”

“You are.” 

“Well. I don't want to be. Cute doesn't get you anywhere.”

Cisco shrugs. “Cute gets you laid.” That shocks a laugh out of Harry. “Trust me. That date was cute and you would've totally gotten some out of it.”

“Good to know.”

They sip their coffee in silence for a bit. It's still comfortable.

“So where do we go from here?” Cisco asks softly. “Because I have to tell you. I get I fucked up. You gave me your trust and I didn't take care of it. So whatever I have to do to earn it back, I'll do it.”

Harry's heart beats faster. “But if you're not sure we can get back there, you have to tell me now. I can't get my hopes up just to have you tell me never to talk to you again.”

“I'm not sure,” Harry says honestly. “I let you into my life, Cisco. My business. And I know you tried to tell me the truth, I know I should've seen it. But you let me believe a lie. I don't think you'll lie to me again. But I don't know if I can trust you again.”

“That's fair,” Cisco says, deflating. 

Harry swallows the final fear telling him not to do this. “So I can't promise anything.”

Cisco cuts his gaze from his coffee to Harry. “But?” 

“If I have to go to another charity event with Lisa as my date, I'm going to lose my mind.”

“You mean you want to try this? With me? For real?”

Harry does, more than he's wanted in a long time. Deeper and more electric and he can't keep pushing it down in favor of pain. He already feels lighter just from speaking the possibility of being with Cisco again.

“The accelerator is on pause. No more government contract deadlines. I have a lot of free time. I need to fill it with something." He takes another gulp of coffee.

“You really are cute,” Cisco teases. He's wearing his waffles for dinner smile. Harry's chest aches. “So. More coffee?”

“You don't wanna talk about our feelings some more?” Harry asks, sliding Cisco his cup. 

“Oh, I can talk about my feels all night long, big guy. I can even pull out my guitar and sing about them.”

Harry's makes a noise of disgust. “God, never mind. I can't try to date you. You play _guitar._ ”

Cisco fixes them both two more cups. They end up on the couch, watching _Star Trek_ with their shoulders pressed flush against each other and their bare feet rubbing in the coffee table.

Harry only means to stay for a few episodes. They're going to move slow, re-build on a solid foundation. It's going to take a while. Harry has to see proof that Cisco will take care, that Cisco is a safe place to entrust his heart. There will be work on both of their parts and it won't be easy. He believes it will be worth it, though. 

They end up falling asleep discussing the mechanics of the Enterprise. Harry's head lulls on Cisco's shoulder, heavy, and Cisco runs fingers through his hair while he runs through his theories. Harry dreams under Cisco's voice.

-

When Harry wakes up, his neck is aching. His shoulders and knees join the creaking of his spine. He sits up and rolls his shoulders, wincing at the cracking noises.

He feels awful. 

Stretching his arms, he looks to his side to see Cisco still fast asleep. He has one cheek smushed against his arm. His mouth is open and little sounds are spilling out.

Harry tries to find something obnoxious in the pose, but he can't. He touches Cisco's cheek to feel the sleep warmth.

He splashes water on his face in the bathroom and uses Cisco's mouthwash to rinse his morning breath. He should bring a toothbrush, he thinks. Some of his cologne and body wash. Maybe get a drawer in what he's sure is a closet overflowing with brightly colored clothes.

Harry splashes his face again. He needs to slow down with fantasies of sleeping over at each other's places. They haven't even had that date yet. They're nowhere close to where they need to be for Harry to move in a toothbrush. 

When Harry goes back into the living room, Cisco is still asleep. Harry thinks back to telling Cisco he couldn't promise anything. He doesn't know who he was trying to fool, other than himself. Unless Cisco gives him a reason, Harry doesn't plan on letting go again.

His phone rings in his pocket. Cisco startles on the couch, fists out like he's ready to fight.

“And you call me cute,” Harry says, smiling. Cisco whips around to see Harry answer his phone. “Good morning, Quick.”

“Hey daddy. You sound awful. You okay?” 

“I'm fine, sweetie. Listen. I'm kind of. In the middle of something. Can I call you back?”

“You're not at work on a Saturday are you?” 

“No. I'm actually. I ran into an old friend at the movie and - ”

“Say no more. Please. Just call me later.” A pause. “This friend wouldn't happen to have been making waffles in nothing but your bathrobe a few months ago, would he?” 

“I'll talk to you later, honey. Love you.”

Harry hangs up and turns his attention back to Cisco, whose hair is a frizzy mess on one side. He's smacking his lips and blinking his eyes but doesn't look any closer to being awake.

“Good morning?” Cisco says, still sleepy. He rubs his eyes. “Did we fall asleep?”

“Yeah.” Harry comes around to the couch. He hesitates for just a few moments before brushing his palm over Cisco's messy hair. Cisco leans into the touch. "You know you snore."

"You do too. Like a freaking grizzly bear. Want some breakfast?"

Harry tries to pull his hand back but Cisco makes an unhappy noise, knocking his head against Harry's fingers. He keeps petting.

“I was planning on going into the labs for a little while today. And I have to call Jesse," he says.  

Cisco blinks up at him. "Oh. Okay. What about tomorrow? I have brunch with the squad but we could do dinner or something. If you want."

“Brunch,” Harry scoffs. He doesn't comment on dinner. He doesn't know if he's ready quite yet. Soon, but not tomorrow soon.

Cisco lets him let it go. "Hey, don't knock brunch. A whole meal centered around sleeping in and getting booze with your breakfast? An incredible concept.”

Harry laughs.  

“You should come.” Harry's hand stills. “Not tomorrow. I just mean, sometime. I want you to get to know my friends. And Dante. Well. I don't really want you to get to know him, but if we're gonna be part of each other's lives for real, you're gonna have to. Sorry.” 

“I can live with that," Harry says. His skin buzzes with potential energy. "I want you to meet Jesse too. With all your clothes on. Sometime."

“Sometime," Cisco echoes, smiling. 

Harry nods and finally takes his hand back. Cisco snuggles into the couch. Harry doesn't want to leave. He wants to indulge in Cisco, warm and open, and fast track everything to the point where he has this always.

"I'll call you," Harry says, unsure of how to leave it.

"Okay," Cisco says. He looks a little more awake as he peers up at Harry from the couch. "I'm free this Friday. I mean, I'm free anytime you want to call me, but if you're planning on asking me on a cute date. I'm free on Friday."

Harry watches Cisco lick his lips. It's idiotic but Harry's insides heat up. He's had Cisco - God, he can't even count how many times, but it's been so long since Cisco has been spread out for his starving mouth.

"I'll check my schedule," Harry rasps. "See if I can pencil you in."

Cisco grins up at him. "Well, if you can spare a little time in your busy schedule, let me know. I'll take you out."

"Oh," Harry laughs. "You will, will you?"

"Yeah. You've never been treated to a true Cisco Ramon date."

"Will it be as cute as mine?"

"Cuter," Cisco says. "It'll kick your date's ass."

Harry feels a dopey grin spread across his face, matching Cisco's own. He has the urge to dip down, brush their lips together for just second before he leaves, but doesn't. 

"I'll let you know about Friday," Harry tells him. 

He leaves before he forgets himself and just hops over the couch, pinning Cisco to the couch, devouring him from the outside in. 

On his way to the car, he calls Jesse.

"So how's Cisco?" she asks when she picks up.

Harry shakes his head. "Fine."

"And you?"

"Fine."

"Daddy."

Harry sighs. "I really am. I promise. I tell you when I'm not now, remember?"

She sighs back. "Did you have a good time catching up with him?"

"Yes," he says. He gets to his car and drums the fingertips of his nerves against the side. "We actually. Well not officially. But we have plans. Plans to make plans."

"A date? You finally asked him?"

"He sort of asked me."

"Aww," she says. "What are you doing? What are you wearing?"

"We haven't - what do you mean, what am I wearing?"

There's a beat before Jesse says, "I may or may not have stalked his Instagram. He's really into his fashion. Also I'm pretty sure he's loaded. He bought a thirteen hundred dollar pair of shoes the other day."

Harry blinks at the glare of the sun. "Well that's. Are you sure? His clothes are so bad."

"Okay. When you get home, we're skyping to find you something to wear that isn't black."

He also has gray. "It'll be fine, Quick. I'm headed to work for a bit. But if you insist, we can skype my outfit this evening."

"I do insist. Drive safe, okay? I love you."

"You too, sweetie."

He texts Cisco once he slides into the car.  Maybe he's not ready to start re-building tomorrow, or even this week. But he thinks the distance of a little more time will be enough to calm his nerves. He knows, just like Cisco, it will take time. But they have it.

_This Friday doesn't work. But next week I'm free._

_then it's a date. get ready to be romanced by the best potential boyfriend ever_

Harry smiles. _Bring it on, Ramon._  

He does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to aquafizzy10 and liveyourtemptation for talking me through some things I wasn't sure about! Also thank you to everyone who liked all my ramblings about this thing on Tumblr! <3
> 
> Comments are always appreciated. You can also come ramble about Harrisco and Cisco related things with me on Tumblr.


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